Don't Let Me Go

one

It was hurt. All that I could feel was pain. I couldn't open my eyes properly because my head was throbbing with pain, but I could smell blood and I tasted blood.

I heard him calling my name in between war cries. The beautiful voice reached my fading hearing, my blurring sight tried to locate him. There he was, fighting as he might, magnificently, gracefully, as if he was dancing in the rain.

His opponent was big and strong, maybe even stronger than him. But he was really fast. What he lacked in size and strength, he made up for in skill and speed. They were circling each other, assessing weaknesses, measuring strengths. Both were panting, staggered to their feet. I could see it would be their last strike. It was now or never. Only one would come out alive.

I had to do something, otherwise he would lose. I gathered my last breath and shouted, "Oh, the winter rain, cleanse the holy places of the land, and to overcome them out of a pure heart ...!"

But nothing happened. It was true then, I had lost my power.

Darkness came as slow as I saw them leaping onto each other. I never imagined that my last memories would be his grey eyes that looked at me longingly and lovingly, and a broken smile, gracing his beautiful face as his body went limp and fell to the earth.

I tried to scream, but my words came empty. So I beg for darkness to finish my time quickly for I wanted to be with him again. My soulmate.

---

Streams of lights reached my peripheral visions, effectively waking me up. Birds were chirping outside my windows, literally, their favorite trees were there. I groaned. I hoped Grandma hadn't fed them again. Last time, those damn birds didn't stop chirping for three days straight. Their constant chirping had costed me migraine for the whole week. I wondered what she'd given them.

I rubbed my eyes, trying to remember my dream. Was it the same dream? I dreamt almost every night ever since I was little, but I didn't remember them clearly what they were all about. I just knew that each dreams were different from one another but they were always bitter and sweet at the same time. Mostly tragic, death related and in gloomy setting. But recently there was always this deep feelings present, it made me feeling warm, loved and longing. That feelings lasted even after I had woken up. Well, that was weird.

I got up and have a look out of the window. My suspicion was proven true. Grandma was sitting on our garden bench with lots of colorful birds flying around, some perched on the bench and some on her. She was humming softly while offering them what it looked like grains or seeds on her open palms. If I didn't know better, I wouldn't know that she was humming some incantations at those poor birds. I shook my head and smiled at the odd view. Grandma was a witch, or a psychic for most people.

Grandma looked up and smiled back at me. "Good morning. Oh Jacey dear, your Mother calls. Get your pretty arse down and answer the bloody thing up."

I blinked. As if on cue, the house phone rang. I nodded at her and walked down into the kitchen to answer it. At this rate, I was no longer surprised about her talent, or rather, supernatural power.

"Hello Mom" I answered softly. I was still a bit left shaken after the dream.

My mother was asking about my week, just like any other weekend. She was always calling once a week, every Saturday night, at nine p.m. But this week she had to go somewhere so she wouldn't be able to call. She made a call this Saturday morning instead. She was always cheerful and talks a lot about almost everything. By the end of her call I usually learned about my parents life that week down to the tiniest detail as if I was still living with them, with a bonus of the knowledge on their neighbors' life as well. Gossip as usual.