Journey || Erik Durm

♂

ERIK:

           IF there was one thing that I could say in absolute certainty, it was that the mere thought of Emilia Götze drove me insane. There was something else that I had long come to grasp: that she had long undergone her demise, so as her tanned figure unrolled before me tonight, I told myself that she was merely a hallucination.

After all, how could Emilia still be here? She was gone. Three hundred days had not been able to resurrect her.

"Hey Erik, I don't think I can go to your game tonight," she murmured, tugging the hem of my shirt. We were atop her bed, nestled under cocoons of quilts and blankets. She stiffened. "Stay with me tonight, please?"

I pulled away despite wanting to tangle myself in her. "But the game is important to me, Em," I pressed. There was no way Jogi would be forgiving if I abandoned our team in a game.

Her next words were uttered with an indiscreet urgency. "But I need you."

I leaned forward in assurance, pressing my lips on her forehead. "We'll be together after the game, Em," I murmured into her skin. "You're going to be there to cheer me on, right?"

"No."

I faltered, pulling away. "No?"

"No, Erik, I—I got into a fight with Mario earlier today," she began to explain. "Under no circumstances can I show my face there tonight."

My eyes met Emilia's then, discerning their glossy texture. "Em, what happened? Are you okay?"

"Erik, you have to stay tonight. Please."

"But—"

"Please, Erik."

I closed my eyes, reaching down for Emilia's fingers, and when I reopened them and lifted my head ever so softly, Charlotte was in front of me, her brown eyes peering into my own. I gasped, bringing my hands to my neck. Upon touch, I felt a stream of perspiration trickling therein.

"Fuck," I whispered, caressing the pillow beneath my head. It was soaked. "Where am I?"

"You were murmuring incoherently in your sleep, Durm," Charlotte said softly, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. "Were you having a bad dream?"

"None of your business," I muttered, picking myself out of the bed. I rubbed my temples roughly as I rushed to the door. "I need some fresh hair."

"Erik," she groaned, her voice scarily similar to Emilia's.

I froze on my tracks.

"It's cold outside," she went on. "You'll catch the flu."

"That's just a fucking myth," I retorted snidely, unable to control the reflex of the brutal words. There was no other way to get Charlotte to stop, especially with her persistence. Perhaps the previous night's alcohol had not yet tamed or I was still intoxicated, but her presence was beginning to liven a nostalgia that placed me on edge. The whiskey, still tangible on the base of my throat, was responsible for my careless thoughts.

Releasing a sigh, I stepped out of the diner, the memory with Emilia freshly tainting my mind. This was one that I remembered having countless times before. The outcome would be different each time. Today was one of the better nights. Emilia was still alive as I woke up.

Most nights, she was beyond it. There was always something terrible that she would do, like swallow herself whole, or melt into a pool of flesh onto the floor. My mind was frighteningly creative.

Without a strict resolve, I ambled towards nowhere in particular. The early summer air constricted my skin, igniting vicious goosebumps at their wake. I was so engrossed in my new journey to nowhere that I failed to notice Charlotte's footsteps behind me until they met with mine. "Erik, you're a lot of terrible things, but I didn't think you were stupid," she murmured, occupying the space beside me. I was already crossing the road, merging onto the next boulevard. "It's cold and you should take this jacket," she continued, quickening her pace to give me one of my polo jackets.