To Waltz in Broad Daylight

pour elle, je suis désolé

"Okay! Stay there, I'll be back!" Dylan laughed, taking off to find his father. "Try to not miss me too much!"

Oh, how much had changed within the next few minutes.

Dylan didn't even realize what had happened until he hit the ground. Fires sprung up around him like the outstretched hands of the poor, desperately begging. They were so unbelievably hot, and the embers didn't stop growing. Up, up, up it went, towering over his body. That wasn't unbearable though.

The screaming was. They weren't the cries of the happy, the roars of the angry, or even the shrieks of the sad. They were much, much worse.

They were the screams of fear. Fear of the unknown, of not knowing what was going on. It was the kind of scream that made your blood run cold with even more fear. If that was even possible. 

Dylan shivered despite the heat. Sweat dripped down the side of his head, and he could taste a metal tang. He could hear the screams of every person. They echoed in his head like a bell. Each of them were so different, yet they were the same. They had the same fear, the same meaning.

If the explosions didn't scare him, that certainly did.

He wanted to help them so badly. Comfort them, tell everyone that it would be all right. But he'd be lying then, and he couldn't do that. Ren would be able to see right—

Lauren.

How could he have forgotten about her? She was hurt, for goodness sake! Who knew what had happened to her?

Dylan struggled onto his knees, only to be pushed back down by the mob of people. His hat flew off his head, and he yelled in surprise. He landed less than an inch away from a fire, drawing back quickly only to hit someone.

"Sorry!" he gasped, but the person had already gone. He was pushed back to the ground as another wave of people ran by.

Coughing, Dylan raised his head out of the mud. He began crawling, but it was impossible to get far. There were too many people. He didn't even know how many pairs of feet had trod over him the past minute.

His whole body ached in ways he hadn't even known possible. His muscles hurt, and fatigue seeped into him like poison. Was this how he was going to die?

Trampled by feet, haunted by screams, and surrounded by the cradle of flames.

Dylan had always imagined that he'd die of old age on a hospital bed. He was always surrounded by flowers, and... and Ren was always there. He'd always imagined that he died before her.

Was that still true?

Dylan screamed.

Unlike all the rest, his scream wasn't for fear. It wasn't even for whatever that had happened.

It was for her.

She had to be alive. She just had to be.

Dylan jumped to his feet with so much force the crowd paused. They stared at him in disbelief as he ran against them. A lone fish swimming against the waterfall.

Nothing would've stopped him from getting back to his friend, but fate thought the opposite.

Dylan tripped, landing face first onto the hard ground. Warm blood trickled down his head, and the world spun in circles. He looked back at what he tripped on, choking to see his hat. His own hat had betrayed him.

Standing, he wobbled to the side. He coughed more blood, groaning. He felt as if his head was going to split in half and explode into pieces.

But it wasn't.

It couldn't.

He

needed

to

get

to

Lauren.

Alas, the world was destined to work against him.

A single tear slipped down his pale face as another explosion shook the ground beneath him, burying him under debris. No one heard his last words before the darkness claimed him.

"Ren, I'm sorry."