Devil's Discord

Fear

   "You've heard her name, seen her face, but how well do you know her? Heeeere's Nesya!"

The crowd cheered as I plastered on a fake smile and walked confidently on stage. The lights washed over my face, blocking my vision of the crowd, but from what I saw before the show, I'd say there was about two, maybe three hundred people watching me, not to mention the millions staring at their TV's. Sitting down on a fairly comfortable chair, I silently rehearsed my answers, Matthew, my manager, voice echoing through my mind. "Keep it short, but go into as much detail as needed. We must show them you're a poor, helpless girl who needs their help."

   The show's host, Martin Marshall, a short, plump man with a thick head of salt and pepper hair and twinkling hazel eyes, started the interview. Most of the questions were the usual, like "What were you doing that morning", "How'd you feel when you saw the destruction of your city", oh and my personal favorite, "How many loved ones did you lose". Then Martin took a step off the script. "So I know no one here can even imagine what it's like to go through this, I certainly can't. But what's it like knowing you're the last of an entire civilization? We know nothing about your people, and now you must carry on the That the stories of your people are engraved in your skin."

   I felt a ball of fear tighten in my throat, memories of that day swirling in a sickening kaleidoscope. I instinctively started to pull on my dress sleeve, rubbing my birthmark, the only thing I have left to remind me of where I come from. "I- I... um..." I shuddered. I saw Matt watching from the wings, his face empty. He just gave me a shrug, as if saying 'It's your answer, not mine'

   I swallow, trying to find the right words. The whole room is silent except for my pounding heart, its sound reverberating in my ears. All I can see is bodies of people I never knew crushed under rubble, mothers holding children, girls with their mouths open in mid-scream, men with faces so calm you'd think they were just waiting to die. The lights started to flicker, my heartbeat increasing as I ran through crumbled towers, looking for anyone to help me. The lights flicker faster, parts of the studio going in and out of complete darkness. I feel a dark realization seep into my core, drawing out all the light as I tell myself I'm the only one left. "I- I guess it's uhh... very-" All the lights in the studio blackout as I see my city from the back of the rescue truck, the billowing smoke pillars still rising in the air, dust swirling the broken walls pulling the city into a deadly fog. All I could think was how this was all my fault and how much I wished for that smoke to choke my lungs 'til my heart stopped. The memories faded as the emergency lights kicked in, and Matt took me by the arm, pulling me up and walking us towards the stage door. He pulled open the door, a blast of icy wind rushing in, waking me from my trance. I stayed quiet as we walked, my body numb and cold, the dress did nothing to protect me from the cold winter night of Russia. I shivered, not from the cold, but of the tingles that'd plagued my skin since I left Tiksiva. Everyone said it was just from the shock, and it'd past with time, but I knew differently. Matt felt my goosebumps, and, being the kind gentleman he was, pulled off his warm coat and wrapped it around my shoulders. "Thank you..." I whisper as we turned a corner. A swarm of interviews surrounded us in seconds, microphones and recorders shoved in my face as voices screamed over one another, trying to get an answer. Bodyguards pushed them back, but I could still hear their voices. "Why'd you freeze?" "What was your city like?" "Do you miss it?" "How many people did you lose?" "Do you feel like your whole world was destroyed in the bomb?" "This is your fault..."

   I flinched at the last one. That was the sentence floating through my head every time I closed my eyes, the one I'd stay awake on for nights, silent tears streaming down my cheeks. The tingles I have aren't from shock. They're the ghost of all my people, blaming and haunting me for what I've done. I feel a tear fall down my face, the drop freezing in my hand. "It's not just your fault though..." I whip around, looking for the voice that seems to be reading my thoughts. All I see is Matt and the bodyguards. They look at me, surprised by my confusion. A limo pulled up to the curb, Matt opening the door for me. I step in, but not before I see a boy in a nearby alley. He was tall and powerfully built, I could see his muscles through his gray shirt and black jacket. His skin is light tan, with messy dark brown hair, the tips frosted platinum blond. I didn't catch much of his face, but the moment I saw him, our eyes locked on one another, and all I could see was bright red blood under a pale blue sky. "Who are you?" I thought, knowing he could hear me. "All in good time, deary..." his voice answered. I slid into the limo, Matt right behind me, and the door slams shut. I turn around, looking at the alley. The boy's gone, but his voice echoes through my mind. I feel my body start to calm, my mind going blank and my eyes start to close. The last thing I see is red and blue eyes glowing in the sky. "All in good time..."