Romani Prince

Epilogue 2

"My Luka..."

Her eyes are so full of love and sadness...

She is crying. 

Always crying...

My name on those soft lips...  Always calling for me over and over, again.

I reach out to touch her face, but I am abruptly plunged into darkness.

Her face... gone.

Not again!

I'm falling...  All lost in this familiar abyss of despair, once more.

I cry out in frustration: "No!"

Covered in sweat, I blink repeatedly to open my eyes.

Home...  I stare at the old ceiling fan going round and round.

My childhood bedroom.

With a long breath, I throw my legs out of the bed and my feet touch the cold floor.

It feels better.  I welcome the cool sensation.

But am I dreaming, still?  I look around, confused.

This hasn't been my home in so long... 

I managed to stay away from this place for almost three entire years, now.

It is.... all so unfamiliar to me.

I have roamed around the world in constant search of...  I run a hand over my dry mouth because I don't know what... 

Relief?

Peace?

I shake my head with another long sigh.

So thirsty...

Trying to calm down my constantly anxious heart, I reach for the glass of water on my nightstand but my aim fails me and the glass comes tumbling down to the floor.

Water spills everywhere.

With my head still in a bit of a fog from the dream, I run my fingers through my hair while staring at the spilled water on the floor.

"Calm the fuck down, damn it."  I admonish myself, knowing very well that it is all getting much worse.

Since I came back home, the dreams are happening night after night, nonstop. 

The emotions are also stronger and the images are more vivid than ever.

I push my palm against my chest in a useless attempt to massage away the ache that lives inside my heart.

It often gets worse after the dreams...  After seeing... her.

Is she just a figment of my imagination or is she real?  Someone from my past, perhaps?

That summer...

That lost month that no one could help me remember anything about...

My eyelids flutter closed and her face flashes in front of me, again.

I can never get a good look at her face, which drives me insane.

Why?

No one knows where I went or who I was with when the accident happened.

And even with years of guided therapy and help from family and friends, I was able to regain most of my memories...

Except... for that short blank spot of a month or so, right before the car crash that was responsible for my memory loss.

I can't help to think that this short blind spot in my mind may hold more meaningful memories than my entire life, combined.

But with no one to give me any references to kickstart my memories, I fear that I'll never find out what really happened during that time.

I will never find out who the mystery woman from my dreams is.

"Fuck!"

I need water.

Pushing up, I support myself on the dresser and shoot a glance at the man in the mirror.

My reflection gives it to me straight. . .

It doesn't matter how powerful my body may be.  I feel like crap, so I look like crap.

It feels like am dying little by little, day after day, from the inside and out.

Shaking my head, I straighten up, because there is nothing anyone can do to stop it.

So, in plain survival mode, I push to the door.

Water...  Because this eternal thirst is never satisfied.

Along with the strangely vivid dreams, my constant thirst is another burden I have to live with, caused by my head injury.

The doctors promised the dreams would go away, with time...  But guaranteed that the thirst would be a constant struggle.

They were certainly wrong about the dreams, so maybe this infernal thirst will stop, someday.

Dragging my feet down the corridor, I wonder for the thousandths time...  Why did they even bother to revive me?

I am obviously nothing like I used to be...  And actually, my past life doesn't even feel real at all.

It's just another strange dream.

Raised voices coming from the kitchen make me stop before turning the corner.

My mother and father are fighting, yet again.

They don't recognize me, I don't recognize them...  What's new?

"You did this!  I don't know how, but you did!  This angry and self-destructive man down the hall isn't my son!  He's nothing but a ghost!  A haunted miserable creature determined to get himself killed in any way possible!"

I can't hear my father's murmured response.

"I don't care what the doctors say!  You broke him!  You fix him!  And do it, before it's too late!"

Sobbing compulsively, my mother storms out of the kitchen with such blind fury that she doesn't even see me.

Their bedroom door slams shut so violently that the entire house quakes from it.

I lean back on the wall.  My mind spinning so fast that I can barely think.

What is she talking about?  How is my father responsible for my accident?

And then, I hear it...

The soft shuffling and swiping of a deck of cards.

Bunica Ana has been in the kitchen with my parents, all this time.

"Will you fix it?"

Alert, I wait for my father's answer.

"Nothing can be done."

The shuffling stops and, in my mind, I can picture my grandmother aligning the old cards on the table.

"Hmmm..."

It takes her another long moment, as she must be carefully studying the cards in front of her.

"And... what if it fixes itself?  Will you intervene?"

My heart pounds inside my chest.

What... does she see?

It feels like an eternity while waiting to hear Rajko's answer, even though I don't understand why it would make any difference.

"No."

Bunica Ana lets out a long sigh.  "Good, good."

The End of Part I

*Thank you for reading my story!  A lot of it was real, down to the nun in the elevator, Zed, Jeremy and Mina, the entire car accident. etc...*

*Don't forget to check the next 4 books from the series, with part 2 coming up, and the stories of their children: Luke, Bella, and Roland.  Enjoy!*