Scars

Prologue

He felt as if though the strange vast space he was floating in was made of warmth. Soft sound seemed to radient with it, odd as it is, and even the sweet smell felt warm and the green and blue and yellow blur of light before his eyes did as well. It all felt like spring turned into a hazy sensation. He felt safe, sensed the presence of someone trusted and very familiar. He didn't wonder who this is, he just accepted the reality of it as it was. And then, the person's voice spilled their identity;

„Hey, wake up" it was soft, giggly and innocent. The blur cleared revealing his older sister leaning over him with a smile. Her light blonde hair swayed softly with the wind, reflecting the yellow sunlight, her blue eyes were sparkling. Only for a moment it seemed strange for him that she's about twelve, but moment later he knew he's eight and that's the way it's supposed to be. No questions asked, he dived back into the childhood days.

„Jamaine...?" he whispered sleepily, only now the fact that he just woke up occuring to him.

The twelve year old giggled in response, standing straight and smoothing out her flowy, yellow summer dress. She reached out, offering her slender hand to him. „Everyone is waiting for you" she said, and the sudden solemn and damanding tone made him twitch and look up at her rapidly. She was looking him dead in the eye, her face clear of emotions. She was older, a young woman now; he didn't think much of it, she just grew up, and so did he, now 16 and turning 17.

He lifted his hand off the cold grass and took a hold of her offered palm. He felt some heavy guilt building up in his throat, but at this point he couldn't name the source.

Fixed on his guilt he let Jamaine lead him somewhere darker and colder, as he followed reluctantly knowing inside his heart that he's headed to face just the reason he feels this way. Or should we say, reasons.

A little crowd of figures awaited him in a semi circle. He felt Jamaine let go of his hand as he stepped into the clear area alone. The people that surrounded him were familiar to him, he met them all at different point in his life, but his memory of each and every one of them was stained with a conclusive moment of deep regret, that often being the last memory of them he had, if not to count some cold shoulders and resentful glances. There were all people who had a huge impact on his life – most of whom he loved, held dear and missed still.

He stepped back, feeling his lungs being crushed by guilt. But then his back hit something that was cold but moving and he looked up, behind him, at Jamaine. His heart skipped a beat. Her skin was greyish, her dress dirty, her hair messed and void of color.

„Why did you let me die?" she asked in a hoarse whisper that echoed in his head like a bell. Suddenly he realized she's covered in her own blood, and that blood made him remember ever so clearly the moment she was murdered in front of his eyes.

„Why have you done this to me?" another familiar voice came from across the place, a voice filled with rage. He turned around, expecting to see who he knew the voice belogned to far in the back, he chocked with fear when he saw Staphen's bloody eyes right before his face, the brother's head twisted unnaturaly.

Fever apology wanted to come out of his mouth but he found it impossible to open them, his jaw clenched. He wanted to tell him that he never meant to hurt him, kill him, that he just wanted to stop him from murdering any more innocent children. It was Stephen who gone mad, and he? He just wanted to help him, he didn't mean for his neck to twist, he would never even think to go this far with his attempts of stopping him...

„You killed my son, and I thought you weren't a monster" his mother's voice made him turn his face to look at her judgemental, tearful eyes. Her words stung like acid, not only suggesting she blames him for Stephen's death, doesn't perceive him for her son anymore, but also implying she came to consider him a monster for what he's done and accepting that he's a monster by nature after all, just like everybody told them all along. He looked away, unable to hold her gaze as he knew she would never forgive him, just like he would never forgive himself.