Walk in the light: Legend novella

Day (2)

Day

June Iparis. Everything I told her was true. Ever since the day I woke up ten years ago, from my five month coma- I've had memory loss. Miraculously it was only my memories of the past year, at first I was just glad that I hadn't lost all of my memories. Now as time grows on, I feel like loosing any other year would have been easier. It seems that I have not only lost a chapter of my life- I had lost the most important one. I had some memories though, like of my family's death, things that scarred me so bad even a coma couldn't take the horrid pictures away.

I had nightmares in which I relived my worst fears. I saw my mother in the moment she died, there were other people at the scene too, but for some reason I could never focus on them. Not even one little detail came into view, it was like looking through blurred glass- I couldn't make out anything but humanoid shapes on the other side. Yet in contrast my mind spared no detail on my mother, everything was pulled into sharp focus, the more I wished it was blurred the sharper it got. I hated it but I could never look away, right up to the point when the bullet went straight through her skull. Then I just couldn't look away. Her eyes, always blue and full of fire. How could they be so lifeless?

Then came John. My brother was the same, I stood there watching with painful clarity as he kneels before those goddy soilders with a black blindfold, and I can never help but remember all the similarities in looks between us. We looked so close, that he had fooled soilders and commanders alike. I watched, unable to look away as he was filled with bullets, the impact splattering my brother's warm blood all over me. My ears picked up the amplified thump as my brothers soul-less body hit the stage. How could John, with a heart so full of warmth and care be defeated, just like that?

I never could stand to see Eden so small and frail, much less with those dark violet bleeding irises. His usual intelligent gaze was gone, replaced by unfocused stares. He was as close to blind as you can get without actually seeing nothing. In this dream I could look away, not have the images burned into my mind, but how could I? Eden was the last of my family, my only brother, the last person in the world who shared my blood. So I watched. I watched as tubes were hooked up to his arms, breaking his fragile skin, sucking the life out of my kid brother. As if he had any life left.

I would wake up sobbing, searching for my life line, for Eden. He would come over and I would hold him, afraid to let go.

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Those dreams occurred less often now though, in fact I haven't had one in years.

Tess and Eden were the ones to tell me most of my story. Though, by the looks of it they were only actually there with me only parts of the time. If I wasn't with Tess and I wasn't with Eden then ....... where was I? Who was I with? I know I was strong but there just seemed to be no way I could have gone through all those things by myself. They first only gave me a brief summary, then told me more parts in more detail along the road. They say they didn't want me to be overwhelmed. It was like I wasn't older one and hadn't taken care of them- instead they act like the parents now. It was fine. I felt weak anyways. When they told me a piece, sometimes I got a little of my memory back, and sometimes I didn't. When I questioned them further than they would tell, they became cautious, like they were treading on a thin line. Over time I got the sense that they were holding something back and when I asked, they would reply, "There is nothing more to say." But there was. Because the story was missing something. Something very important. Or, I later realized not something- but someone.

When Eden and I went to Antarctica, there were girls I were interested in, yet when I started to plan my move, a sick feeling went through me, and I felt that I was doing something terribly wrong. I didn't know why, though. It was like a reflex. One time I had my eye on a gorgeous blonde in a bar, I was half drunk and was able to push aside the sick feelings I got enough to get her alone. I pushed her against a wall in the alley behind the bar and started kissing her. As I did the feeling went away, lifted, it felt right. As I ran my hand through her hair, and glanced at the delicate blond curls they changed. I stared at the dark, straight hair sliding along my palm. When I blinked, the image went away. But it was enough to unnerve me. As I tried to forget it and kept kissing the girl her hair changed more often, white blond flashing to dark black. Eventually I couldn't stand it, and ran away from her.

On that night I had a memory. For some reason my mind had resurfaced something I had read years ago, when Eden and I were leaving the Republic. We were on our way to board the jet and as I was going up the steps, a nearby jumbotron caught my attention. In less than a second I read the headline: Princeps-Elect June Iparis- that was all I got through when I stepped into the jet and the interior cut off my line of sight. I never saw the headline again, never even got a chance to glance at the pictures that were broadcasted with the headline.

I also remembered the girl in the hospital, who checked up on me the day I woke up from my coma. For the first few days after our encounter I kept thinking of her. I had no idea why, but it seemed important. When I had looked into her eyes, I had seen a sort of deep emotion hidden in her. She never told me her name. Both the memories and my unusual experience with the girl in the alley were connected somehow. After that night, I never kissed another girl. I found myself paying more and more attention to girls with long, dark hair. Eventually I focused on other things, and the feeling slowly drifted away. Until today.