The Followings of a Red Beret

The Sky, Darkness, and the Serpent

Darkness is a strange substance. It has no physical mass nor does it bear any weight, but in the presence of emotional beings, namely humans, it takes on a whole range of definitions. However, for the purposes of our story here today, it shall take on for the most part its original intended meaning- an absence of light.

It was dark- pitch black and scary. Shadows loomed from every corner of the world, and within each hid another, a myriad of deathly creatures that seemed to stare threateningly back at me. But wait. What shadows? A shadow cannot exist without a light to cast it, can it? But oh, there was the light- a solid off-white that seemed to grow in size as the seconds passed into hours and days. Wheels on a track caused the eerie screeching sound to climax, rising in pitch and ending with a hiss. And then there was silence. But the light was still there, though it now remained stationary, its growth having stopped. It seemed to stare at me with all its spectral being. But the spectral being wasn't white, oh no. It was black, cloaked, and hooded, oozing evils and pasts unknown. But then everything turned into nothing. Had that been Death, seeming to judge my existence? Am I dead? I couldn't be...

Of course I'm not dead. Here I am sitting by Charlotte's side, holding her pale feeble hand. It wasn't lifeless, but it nearly had been. I tuck a strand of her unkempt chocolate brown hair behind her ear and listen to her breathe. It's ragged, but it's there and it's keeping me grounded. Her little chest rises and falls in a synchronized beat with one of the many machines connected to her. She looks so small and lost in the maze of wires and tubes connected to her.

I've been a bad father.

****

Perhaps I should make an introduction to myself before I continue on with the story. But do you really need it? You'll learn more about me soon enough. Just the basics will do, won't they?

I had been born somewhere in Japan- you don't need to know specifically where- as Seiwa Daiki, a happy child until I moved to England at the age of 3. My father had been a wealthy and successful man, living up to his, and consequently my, lineage. You see, the Seiwa line was the most powerful and successful of the Minamoto clan, and my family was eager to live up to the name. That was why when my father announced that he would be moving to England to marry the woman of his dreams (who obviously wasn't the fair, long haired beauty his family had expected), everyone was shocked. They told him he was dishonoring them and their name. What made it worse was that my mother, an Englishwoman, came from a rather poor family, so my father would be moving from riches to rags. A few years after their marriage, they moved back to Japan, when my father's family had settled down about the whole affair. They weren't happy about it, but they weren't as displeased as before. I was born shortly after, and the same ambitions that had been burdened upon my father became a burden of my own.

But let us not reminisce so far in the past. Fast forward a few years, sometime during high school. 

My relatives had called me back to Japan from England. They had accepted me as a suitable heir to the family business in corporate banking. I was to continue my education at a private school, attend a good university, and take up the business. At first I had gone along with it. What reason would there be not to? They were providing me with an all expense paid trip to a happy and prosperous future. And it wasn't as if my grades weren't decent. In fact they were far above being just "decent." I had placed in the top three in every ranking exam and was well on my way to making someone out of myself in the financial world.

But there had been that one day. That one day that changed everything. Often they say that the biggest changes are made in the blink of an eye. Often they are right. 

****

Charlotte's eyes flicker for but only a few brief moments. But those few brief moments were enough to give me hope. They had sent a stream of golden warmth flowing through my veins to my heart where it pooled into a fountain of everything wonderful. The room is quite stuffy, but the familiar scent of peppermint and roasted chestnuts overwhelmingly fans throughout the room. If I listen closely, I can almost hear the crackle of the fire and the jingle of the bells on the Christmas tree. The table would be set up with a plate of cookies fresh out of the oven, a glass of milk, and of course the thank you note from Charlotte for the presents from Santa. But everything that is is what it's not and I'm brought back down to harsh reality. Behind me I hear the quick footsteps of the nurse, her scrubs an overwhelming shade of green.