Gradually... I've started to remember what happened to me. Why I suddenly broke down... Have you ever repressed a memory for a very long time, holding it close, never wanting to let anyone know? It's your darkest secret, your moment of purest weakness... the bleeding second of endless tragedy: too much pain, too much... and not being able to do anything about it.
I promised myself I'd never talk of anything related to that. In fact, no one knows, I never planned on revealing it. I never planned it would consume me from the inside either. Such a secret, such memories devour me, they don't give me peace sometimes, and though I soothe them, I've witnessed, they can't be stopped, they'll come back, over and over in an endless cycle until I let them go, until I come face to face with the things I've done. But the things I've done are not the kind of events that could be washed away... they're the type of shadows that seem to walk down a condemned path along you. They weep with you, they care for you, they never leave you... until that very last breath.
Dead.
I thought to myself... that day... 'I want to die'.
... 'I can't take it anymore, I want to die'.
There was blood everywhere; corpses all around, a massacre, blood drenched floor. The ground was humid with remains and flesh; people I had been sharing with, children I had been playing with, innocent dreams... shattered, turned into cadavers.
And I was there, my own blood filled tears streaming down to join its sisters in substance. I couldn't do anything... I failed... I couldn't protect anyone I was supposed to protect. Alone, surrounded by complete destruction, alone without my parents, without my home... without him.
Those few moments in which I collapsed and stared at the utter disaster I didn't feel my body. I think it had been ripped aparts, I wasn't even complete; my own nature prevented my death. I remember losing consciousness and then thanking God for being merciful, he had spared me any more suffering. Months after, I had woken up... Drafo had saved me, but I was nothing short to suicidal. I didn't leave my room; it seemed as though I had lost any other purpose to keep on. The darkness was consuming me, but much as I tried, I couldn't kill myself, I thought about it, but I didn't want to deep inside. I was still alive, that 'spark' of what I used to be, buried deep. I was no longer innocent, no longer willing to believe. I wanted THEM to suffer, THEM to know what it felt to be tortured, consumed alive by the knowledge of haven't been good enough.
Vengeance... that became my real first purpose when I started recovering from the trauma. Only after I pictured myself with all kinds of power, did I react. That's one I started leading the missions, and guiding people and, step, by little step... I became someone stronger.
However, Ouuns never forget, *I* never forgot.
The first time I went over there, he and I were still children... well, we were teens, and he had taken me there because I was annoying enough. I loved it, such a beautiful place, the center of knowledge and reflex; a marvelous mix of evolution and omnipotence.
The last time I went, I had just lost everything. He tended to me, made me feel safe, encouraged me to go onward. I never told him, but just him being there, that place being his real home, gave me reason enough to want to protect as if it had been MY home.
And I tried to do just that... But I wasn't powerful enough. As I said... I was still a 'child'. I never thought such cruelty could happen with me fighting it. However, long ago, that day, I learned, no enemy is to be underestimated... there's always a way... to win, but there's always a wise to lose, it's a matter then of how bad you lose.
We...
We lost everything.
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I remember those last moments of the coma now. What was going through my mind... I became desperate. When I lost, it felt as if I were trapped in a little cage. As if someone had locked me away, and there were no windows, doors or keys to get out. It's the feeling one gets, similar to when one is drowning, you try and try and try, until finally you die. I was banging frantically against the wall, searching for someone to let me out, to give me another chance.
He held me... he soothed me...
But does he remember what we were before? Does he remember what we gave, that we were once everything to the other? Can he see what I see and remember...
That the reason I know about it all....
Is because I was there.
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