50. Death

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"Its alright. It's over now," The voice echoes in the darkness.
I can't feel anything. Nothing at all.
Because I'm no longer a physical being.
I just am. Just my own consciousness floating in an infinite space.
"Who are you?" I ask to the foreign voice.
I'm not afraid. I'm not happy. I'm simply an existence.
"I'm you," the voice replies, "What you were. What you are. What you might have been. Would you like to review some memories of your life?"
"Alright," I agree, indifferent.

The darkness breaks, giving way to a beautiful little cottage by the ocean. Sunlight shines through the window into a lovely living room. Furnished simply with a clean seaside feel. Blue walls and cream furniture. This is a happy place. A baby lies in a frilly cot, beautiful green eyes gazing innocently into the world.
A man and a woman stand over the child, proud parents.
"She looks just like you," The man smiles, kissing the dark hair of the emerald eyed beauty next to him.
The woman strokes the head of the child fondly, "She's perfect," she coos in a melodic voice.

I almost feel a joy watching the scene, but I have no need for the emotion here.

The scene shifts. It's the same cottage, but the child is a toddler now, standing as the emerald eyed woman flies around the room, filling a bag desperately.
She goes to the curious toddler, holding her face, "My beautiful baby. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry I can't stay here. I will come back for you though. I promise, I promise I'll come back for you. Please forgive me my dear Serena. Please forgive me," Her words are forceful, tears stream down her beautiful face.

I watch on impassive as she leaves the child. I know she's not going to come back for it. I know I should be upset by this. But I just can't remember why.

The scene shifts again, like I'm watching a selection of slides.

Now the green eyed child is barely a teenager, walking dangerously close to the cliff edge, oblivious to her surroundings.
The emerald eyed woman hides from her behind the tree line.
"Is that her?" The steely grey eyed man asks.
"Yes. That is her, Dax," The woman breathes.
"She looks like you," He notices, holding her hand, "I don't think she knows what she is though."
The woman looks saddened, "She doesn't know. I can feel it."
"We can help her figure it out?" He tries.
"I don't want to scare her Dax."
"She'll never know it was us. I'll just give her a little push in the right direction."
The woman considers it. Then gives a slight nod, "Then we can come back when she's a bit older and in control of her powers. The mortal world will strengthen her."
They wait for the girl to face away from them.
Then the man picks up a rock and launches it in the girls direction. The actual hit of the rock doesn't hurt her. But it shocks her enough to make her slip, disappearing off the edge without a sound.
I know she's not hurt. That's the day she learns she's not all that human. Soon she will find a city that she calls......what was it called?

"Sanctuary," my conscious offers.

Sanctuary. Her sanctuary.

"Our Sanctuary."

That memory fades away. I'm standing on an abandoned beach, in a place I do not recall.
A little boy runs past me on unsteady legs. His eyes are intriguing, one green and one blue. He squeals with joy as the blue eyed man chases him, picking him up and throwing him in the air.
"What are you two up to?" The green eyed woman asks, laughing with the pair.
The blue eyed man carries the child over, kissing the woman fondly, "Just waiting for you, my love."
They're so happy. I hope they are happy wherever they are.
"I do love you," She tells the man, caressing his handsome face.
He looks at her like he's falling in love all over again. Even though they have a child together.  I wonder briefly what creates such a love.

"It's you. You were Serena. This is what might have been."
"Oh," I reply to the conscious.
I'm unaffected by this news. The life is no more. I am no longer that girl. That life does not belong to me any more.

"Would you have liked that future?" My conscious asks.
"Does it matter?"
"Only if you feel like it does."
"Serena is no more."

"Not yet," The voice replies cryptically.

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AUTHORS NOTE
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