scene 77- not him

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Twilight dropped his fishing rod and stood up. He ran into the water and dove in, reaching for Wild. His hand couldn't find him. At one point it touched his hair, but he didn't want to pull on his hair.

He opened his eyes and saw that Wild had reached the bottom of the river. He swam down and grabbed his arm. He swam up to the surface and pulled Wild out of the water and onto the shore. Why did this keep happening?

As he looked at Wild, he saw a flash of red. Then another. Then, he saw that thing again. With the blood. He gasped and stood up. He closed his eyes, trying to make the image go away.
He opened his eyes again after a moment, and to his relief, Wild was back to normal.

Before he could even check to see if Wild was okay, he opened his eyes and coughed several times.
"Oh, good. Are you okay?"
Wild nodded and sat up, still coughing.
"Are you sure?"
"Ye-" *cough, cough, cough*
"You obviously aren't."
Wild took a deep breath. Well, he tried to. He just ended up coughing.
"Is it water-"
"No-" *cough, cough* "-can't breathe-" *cough, cough*
"You can't breathe?"

Wild hit his chest a few times, wincing each time.
"What the-" *cough* "-hell is going on?"
He started rubbing his chest.
"Can I help?"
"No, I'm good-" *cough*

It seemed like he was coughing less. Then, he inhaled sharply and gasped before falling back onto the ground.
"Aah! Wild?"
He looked up towards the camp, then back down at Wild. Something was going on. It couldn't be good.

He picked Wild up and ran back to camp. Maybe someone there could help.

●●●

Luckily, someone had a fairy, so whatever the problem was, hopefully the fairy had fixed it. It seemed that way, because Wild was breathing normally now. He still hadn't woken up.

Twilight was sitting next to him, looking down at his lap. He was very worried about Wild, wondering why that happened. Wild said that it wasn't because of inhaling water, but it was still possible.

He felt like it was something else, though...

●●●

Water.

Air.

Fire.

And...
Something.

It was something. Definitely something. Sand? No, that wouldn't make sense. What was it? What would it be?

Ugh.


What if.....
What if he...
No.
That would be stupid.
So stupid.
But...
What if?
What could it hurt?

Himself.
Other than that.
Who else would it affect?

She was cute.

Both of them were.
So nice.

They were both

so nice.

But one
was in the past
and the other
is in the present.

So why couldn't he have either?
And why did he feel like he was betraying the first?
Why did he feel like he had to choose?

It wasn't much if a choice
if one was gone
and the other wasn't.

It was torture
to think about them both
at the same time
and feel like

he had to choose.
Because he didn't
have to choose.
So why did it feel like he had to choose?
Why would he have to choose?

Between one or the other?


Water
or
...
princess?
no, they were both princesses...

oh, who was he kidding?
trying to be poetic.
stupid.
or course it wouldn't work.
he could barely think of something to say when someone asked how he was doing.
the answer was do simple,
yet so complicated.
should he lie
or tell the truth?
it depended on who was asking.

if it was someone he knew
like Twilight
or Zelda,
maybe he could tell the truth.
wait-
not Zelda.
he couldn't tell Zelda.
he'd hurt her.

Why did it feel like everything he did hurt her?
Nothing he did was okay.
But it was just him.
Not her.
She was fine.

So what was wrong with him?
He knew exactly what it was.
It was one thing.
And everything.
Both at the same time.

So what could he do?
Could he change?
He could act like someone else.
Maybe he'd become that someone else.
Anything would be better than what he was like now.

Deja vu.

Had he thought this before?
Probably.

He was just a ghost of his former self.
The one from before.
Before the Calamity.
He was a different person.
He had changed.
Probably.
And not in a good way.


Change was sometimes good

and sometimes bad.
This one was bad.

But could he make it better?

Probably not.
But it was worth a try.

Right?



Who
was
he
kidding? Not

himself,

that
was
for
sure.

Not
himself.

And
who
could
he
save? Not

himself,

that
was
for
sure.

Not
himself.

And
who
was
worth
saving? Not

himself,

that
was
for
sure.

Not
himself.

Not
himself.

Not
himself.
Not
himself.




Not
himself.

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