Lights Out | Daniel Diaz

Lie For You

It's dark.

That's all I know, really.

I can't hear, I can't see and I can't remember what led up to this. It's almost peaceful, in a way — not having to burden my mind with pointless worry.

I'm getting comfortable with this sense of emptiness when I feel a touch, hot as a flame.

Next thing I know, an unfamiliar scene is unravelling before my eyes. I'm met with the face of a boy wearing an eyepatch. He's smiling down at me.

Wait, that's really down. When did I get so short? Or is this guy just super tall?

Height aside, he had brown hair, brown eyes and a tanned complexion. He looks strikingly like . . . Daniel?

Daniel . . . Oh. I almost forgot about him.

I try clinging onto the thought of him in hopes of bringing a few more memories back — at the very least enough for me to determine how I got here. Right now all I know is that I'm feeling a surge of affection towards the guy in front of me for no apparent reason — but why?

He was there for me.

What? No he wasn't.

He took care of me when Dad died.

I don't understand.

I feel myself start to panic.

Dad's not dead. And I don't know who this boy is.

Relief washes over me as I realize these thoughts and feelings aren't mine, but rather someone else's. I watch the Grand Canyon behind the eye-patched boy's figure and wonder how I could have gotten here, into the only thing I can assume is someone's memory.

Before I can come to a conclusion, the scene changes to the same boy sitting next to me in the driver's seat of a car. I feel overwhelming joy until my eyes land on his face.

He's covered in blood.

If I could feel my body, I would have started shaking. I would have vomited. But before anything else registers a different scene unfolds before my eyes. A simple, peaceful one.

A wooden cross wedged in the sand of a beach, the name "Sean" carved on it.

Suddenly, I'm plunged back into the darkness, but it's no longer accompanied by the feeling of serene emptiness. I'm panicking. Goddamn it, why am I panicking?

There are too many thoughts to process. They're running around my mind like children during recess. I feel like I'm playing tag with them, but I'm always "it" because I can't catch a single one.

Suddenly I feel the fiery touch again. It clears my mind, pushing me from a panicked, blind state to something I can work with. I finally feel like I'm going back to reality. I can see again. I can hear.

Daniel's touch — it's hot, searing almost, and I jerk away as everything comes into focus.

It's nighttime. I'm outside of the club, laying on the concrete. Really not how I expected my night to end.

Daniel kneels over me, looking startled at my sudden movement. I feel my tangled hair cushioning my head against the ground and a cold wind biting at my skin. My dress does little to shield me, but I don't care.

"Liana, are you alright?"

Daniel's concerned eyes meet my own, an for a moment I want to nod, but a pesky voice reminds me that I'm not, in fact, alright. After all, I'm standing in front of someone dangerous. Very dangerous.