Amentia

Chapter 52 - Remembrance

After they left Zoe asleep on the couch, Meiko and Anna went upstairs and resumed their efforts into waking up Omylia. Meiko thought Nati would probably be more suitable to this task than her: she knew the twists and turns of the human mind much better than her, but sadly she had to figure this out on her own. Thankfully, Ruvyn had given her an idea during their brief conversation at dinner. She just had to find Omylia's before; she was sure that's where the central thread would be, behind all the repercussions of that great loss. If she could pull from a thread of pure bliss from before she was broken, maybe Omylia could find strength to fight against the current the rest of the way.

So she dived back in, traveling the familiar paths she'd gone through the day before. The emotions were in the exact same place and position. It was like a set route: the order was always identical, and it seemed to go back around to the beginning as if she'd hit a reset button, trapping Omylia in a loop of the same set of dark emotions. The first time Meiko had noticed she'd been forced to start over was rather disconcerting and a bit frustrating because it felt she'd lost the progress she'd made. Finding a crack or a hole in this loop was proving more difficult that Meiko would've liked. She was positive this was the way to get to Omylia's center, but it was frustrating to get really, really close only to be pulled back to the starting line again. It was a strong current to fight against. She knew the way by heart at this point: first it was the rage, then the desolation, then both mixed together —these two were mostly external emotions, not really Omylia's; Meiko recognized them as the same ones she'd felt—; then it veered into fear and sadness where the loss was, along with all its associated physical pain, followed by the guilt, shame and self-doubt; and that's when it reset. There was hardly any space between these waves for Meiko to find a way through. So she tried to take a much deeper look into the emotions of the path, to see if any showed signs of weakness or of any other mild emotion she could hold on to.

It took hours and more than one break to find something, but she found it. Deep within the loss, there was a sliver of warmth. It had such a weak current that it took several tries to actually catch it, but it was there: remembrance, something like nostalgia. Once Meiko was able to get a lock on it, it sparked into life.

Remember.

It was so small and yet it carried so much inside.

The waves slowly receded into ripples as the storm began to ease. Such a simple yet powerful thing to hold onto: memories. It's something that no one can take away from you, something that is only yours even after death, good and bad memories alike. The days and months she had that baby inside would always be hers, every second of them, and so would the days after she had lost him. It was important that she had both memories, that she didn't favor one over the other. All memories were valuable and worth keeping and visiting. They were worth the pain.

A bright electrical current overpowered everything else, every path. And the loop finally broke.

Meiko dropped her arms and then herself to the floor, knowing Anna would catch her and keep her from falling too harshly. Once they were both sitting down, Anna put her arms around Meiko and stroked her cheek with a tender look in her eyes. And suddenly she turned her head to look up at the bed, from where she could see the top of Omylia's head.

"Her melody's back," she said with a marveled expression that could've easily been Nina's, and then picked Meiko up to walk around the bed and get a look at Omylia's face.

Brightness had returned to her orange skin and her expression was much more peaceful; she even breathed more easily.

When Omylia opened her eyes, Meiko felt so weak in the knees Anna had to hold her to keep her from falling down again. Omylia looked up at the wooden ceiling with a frown.