Chapter 6

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A/N: Annnnnd here we are with the final chapter ! I worked really hard on this so I hope you all enjoy !!!

Song: Footprints in the Sand by Leona Lewis
( lyrics and Victor's dream in 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝒊𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒛𝒆𝒅)

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Sunday, May 10th, 6:00 PM, Yu-Topia

Darkness

That's all he could see. 

It was as if he was staring into the deepest night sky with no stars in sight. 

His body felt like it was made of lead, yet he was still able to move his limbs to get the feeling back into his numb hands and stiff neck. 

But moving his neck...felt strange. What was tickling the back of it ? And why did his head feel so heavy ? 

He reached his hand up which resulted in a collision of skin to soft, long hair.

Wait. Long ? 

No, that can't be right. He cut it over 10 years ago. 

But...it was there. Silvery strands cascading down his back. He could feel the feathery feeling of it tickling the edge of his ears and the sides of his face. 

An image of a women suddenly flashed before his eyes, causing his breath to hitch and eyes to burn with tears. 

"No...." He whimpered, "no....p-please... where are...the scissors....I need the scissors...I c-can't...do this again..."

His body wracked itself with sobs as his whole body shook. He put his arms over his head, covering his ears and looked down at the ground. Tears ran down his cheeks and dripped off his face, blurring his vision. But he still saw the lonesome, wavy piece of silver hair lying in a ribboned bend at his feet.

His eyes were wide. That...wasn't from him. Was it ?

"V-Victor...how could...y-you...?" That voice, weak and fatigued...but oh so painfully familiar.

He didn't dare look up. He knew that voice and he couldn't bare to face it. To hear it. To even think about it. 

But yet his body felt like he had no control over it and it forced itself to lift his lowered head. 

His breathing was shakey and uneven and his watering eyes gazed upon a trail of even more of the silvery strands. Some were piled, some were flowing like tiny rivers. Some pieces were long and wavy white other where bunched and coiled in on itself. 

But at the end of the trail, he spotted a pristine white bed with and equally pristine white person laying in it that seemed to be aglow in the darkness. 

So pale. So fragile. So weak. 

And he couldn't do anything. 

His feet had unknowingly carried him to the bed side of the weak individual. 

Even when sick, she still had a defined jaw, small nose, whispy eyelashes, pale lips, and blue eyes...that had faded into a sea foam grey. 

But he knew those eyes regardless of their color change. After all...he had an exact pair of his very own. 

"M-mama..." He whispered.

".....why....w-why...did...you leave....?" she whispered.

"I..I'm so-" but he didn't finish. 

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