Scenes From A Memory

Scenes From the Memory Of a Wilting Flower

Prologue [[Doitsu POV]]

I stared at the figure in the sky as it loomed above me for a second, then set off in the opposite direction. I sighed and watched a cloud of my breath disappear into thin air. Another plane.... I thought as I hugged my arms. The air was quite chilly, but it seemed like such a small thing to complain about, when compared to the cruelty of war. I cringed at the thought. I hated it. I hated everything about it! I hated what they did to the innocent citizens. I hated how they worked the laborers past the point of exhaustion. I loathed the idea of soldiers, already on the brink of sarvation, still forced to march into war. I despised the government's cruelty and it's corruption, but what I hated most was the fact that I could do absolutely nothing but sit back and watch the bloodshed as it slowly unfolds. I heard a couple of explosions, but didn't turn around. As I heard the shrieks and cries of pain resounded behind me, I still kept on walking. I unfolded my arms to reach for the knife in my back pocket. My hand trembled as I observed how beautifully it had glimmered in the red sun. It all seemed so simple at the moment. I could just end everything right now. All of the pain would go away and I wouldn't have to remember...her. It would be so easy to just.... let go. I stopped in my tracks to face the old, shabby little cottage that I had once called home. I walked up to the doorstep and removed the silver chain that I wore around my neck. I shoved the silver pendant into the keyhole and heard a click. Once I heard a click, I took a deep breath and pushed lightly at the door, afraid that it might fall apart. It creaked a bit, but surprisingly managed to stay intact. "Home sweet home" I muttered under my breath as I stepped into the house, but thought different. It didn't seem like home. Not without her. My knees trembled as I stood there, unable to move, not daring to take another step forward. I furrowed my eyebrows as memories of what happened five years ago flooded back to me.

That night, I had seen them stream down her beautiful face as both of us kept a stoic expression and I had stood in this very same doorway. She shoved past me and ran through the door, carrying her bags. I knew that would be the last time I would ever see her again, and the last moment I would spend with her. She was leaving me and wouldn't allow me to stop her without hurting her. I didn't want to lose her, but I didn't want her to be more hurt, so I did the only thing that I could think of at that moment. I grabbed her wrist and spun her around before she made it past me. "I love you" I whispered before I crashed my lips down on hers. She didn't struggle. She also wanted this, but I knew that she would still walk out of that door. When we parted, she laced my hands with hers and dropped something in it. She smiled at me and left without a single word, but what she had dropped in my hand told me more than I needed to know. I unclenched my fist and stared at the object that lay, glinting in my palm. It held it up to it's pair on the fourth finger of my left hand. I was supposed to protect her.... yet I was also the one who had hurt her so. I was the cause of her pain and anguish. I sighed in copious melancholy. If only I could turn back time and erase that moment. If only....

As the flashback ended, I squeezed my eyes shut and I fell to my knees. I dropped the knife to the ground as my mind registered that I still clutched it in my fist. I smiled and realized that, though the memories brought back pain and sorrow, I still didn't want to let go of them, because no matter what, they were still memories of her. I loved her, and I would never want to forget her.