Altered

Chapter 7

7. The Fallen Ones

It's been three years. Three years since I've left the old life of Mark Oakley, who lived in a run down house barely enough to fit four peoole and attended virtual classes. Thinking about it, my transition from a person who lived a mundane life to suddenly lives in hiding isn't really a drastic change.

I often participated in street fights with the other Rust kids out there who had nothing better to do. Besides, what is more to life than short moments  of fun? You'll remember them the most in life anyways. That's what I thought before I understood the concept that every single thing is temporary. Just like the love that mom received. It was short and certainly didn't last like those fairytales of everlasting love that the 21st century boasted about.

I was Marcus Oakley, the kid who participated in street fights and remembered only the names of the other 3 people in my house. Now, I am Hawk, a renowned mercenary who doesn't understand himself and lives almost without a purpose. It's a negative way to describe one's self, I know, but I'm really not living any better.

I try not to remember my past too much. The feeling of nostalgia often always comes with regret. It's been a while since I've felt like this. With that, the dread of the mission also continues to press me further, as if it is a looming wall in front of me that I need to break through. Furthermore, the dream of Elliott, Fiona and I together doesn't seem like a good omen. Rather than a reunion, a separation is something that is more likely to happen.

An image of the three of us laughing flashes, followed by the very vivid memory of yesterday: Elliott with a sardonic smile on his face rather than the familiar teasing smile he has. His cold gaze was unreadable. What kind of experience can change someone so heavily in the span of less than a year? It seems like we created a rift between the two of us and Elliott the moment we decided to leave during that one particular mission.

If I could turn back time, though, I would still take that decision, over and over again.

But in the first place, I never thought that I would have a companion in my journey, even though I don't even know which direction I'm going to. I haven't even figured out the clue I have from mom's last letter when it is supposed to be the first thing I search from.

It is way too late to regret the decision of me leaving Evelyn and Caden, but it is too early to say that I regret it in the first place. I don't know if I'm one step closer to finding my father, but there would be nothing left of me if I stop right here.

As if completely able to read my thoughts, Fiona reminds me of the mission tomorrow. The damn mission.  "I know it's shocking to see Eli out of nowhere, but our mission starts tomorrow. This is going to be an important one, so let's make sure to come back... To settle whatever we need to settle," Fiona says first thing in the morning when I pass by her after rummaging through the fridge.

"Worry about yourself, Fi. I think you need those words more than I do at the moment," I tell her nonchalantly. Her face falls, realizing that those words are true. From the 3 years that I've known Fiona for, the Fiona I know now is still about the same that I've known her, except that it feels like a part of her is missing. I chuckle to myself, who am I to say those things about her?

But really, when we stopped seeing Elliott, Fiona's face lost its usual radiance, her smiles more reserved and her laughs less frequent. Her eyes zone out to the distance, as if trying to grasp and reach out to the wonderful memories we had.

Fiona looks for a possibility of recovering the times she had with Elliott, while I look for time spent with my mom, Evelyn, and Caden. Both of us miss each of our pasts, Fiona and I. Those times may be beautiful, but they're nothing but exaggerated versions of a slightly better time.