Death is no dream, for in death I'm caressing you.

Boots slamming into the dirt, my knees buckle slightly as I leap from the tree. I don't hesitate, even as more shots fly past me. Even as another bullet lodges itself in my shoulder. Even as my fists clench around the remains of my love, my heart. My Alex.


No. Can't break down. Can't do it now. Please. Let me be strong enough.


I drop into Obfuscate and run for my life. The buzzing whine of the drone continues, still above me, but falling back. The sound of the ATV seems to be heading in the opposite direction. Concentrating only enough to reach to Tommy's thoughts, I speak a name and quickly cut off the connection. Weak from pain and blood loss, I push myself to keep running, unconsciously keeping far from my own haven, making enough distance between myself, the Hunters and anyone I love who could get caught in the crossfire. I clench my jaw against the howl of agony that threatens to immolate me from the inside out. The woods are now far behind me, and I head towards a populated neighborhood, sniffing the air to find an unoccupied house.


I crawl through a broken window, choking down the smell of mildew and stagnant air. Making a beeline for the bathroom, I slam the door behind me, turning the thumb lock. A pathetic effort of security. Collapsing into the bathtub, I curl into a ball, gasping and cowering against the tub floor. Terrified, despite the lack of pursuit. The smell of blood and ash and death clings to the scraps of my clothing. With clenched fists, I pull the shower curtain from its rings and ball it up, burying my face in the fabric. My shrieks are muffled, but barely. Pounding my fists, I feel the porcelain begin to shatter under my body. I press my lips together hard, forcing the scream back down my throat. Unable to control the needless gasping, I pull my battered form into a sitting position. My hands lay clenched in my lap, and I muster my last force of will to open them.


The sound of skateboard bearings were loud enough to hear even over my blaring iPod. The momentum of the wheels slow as they approach me. My right hand falls to my side, fingers pointed towards the knife in my boot, just in case. I slip my headphones from my ears, sniffing and turning cautiously towards the stranger at my side. He's tan, dark haired, and probably around my age. His scent is a weird mix of human and vampire. My hands relax, stowing into my hoodie pockets. We make casual small talk, and when he makes a flirtatious joke, my easy smile grows almost embarrassed. I rub at my cheek, at the blush that doesn't grow there, with an open palm.


My palms lay open in my lap, and in each is a small mound of ash. All that is left of my Alex. I move my hands so that the influx of tears don't splash into them. I still feel the phantom weight of his body in my arms, and the unburdening as the last bullet tore through him. My mind feels hollow without the comfort of his thoughts. I need him. I need him. Alex, please. I need you.


With the utmost care, I gently pour his ashes onto the jutting soap dish. My hands shake and I pull off the shreds of my shirt and the obliterated vest underneath. My flesh is riddled with holes. Gritting my teeth, I grow my claws and dig them into a hole in the middle of my chest. Under the damaged muscle, I feel a small fissure in my sternum. Staring ahead, tears still trailing down my cheeks, I snap several ribs. My pained moan echoes in the tiled room. Shaking my head slightly, I pull my knife from my boot, and without hesitation, dig the tip into my unbeating heart. More blood spills, as I carve a small pocket in the useless organ, and drop the knife into my lap. Wiping my hands on the shower curtain, I retrieve the pile of ashes from the soap dish. I curl my fingers closed, speaking aloud in a watery tone.

"I'm so sorry, Alex. I'm sorry I didn't do more. I should have...I should have tried harder...done more to save you. I should have died in your place..."
My words dissolve into brief sobbing, and I concentrate on the throb of pain in my chest to stem my tears. "I love you. All my life, I've never loved anything more."
I take the handful of ashes, and with the precision of a surgeon, place them in the wounded pocket of my heart. Willing the scant bit of blood in my system to the area, I heal the organ and surrounding bone. My head falls back against the tile, the tears drying on my face. I feel the pull of unconsciousness, and struggle to fight it off. I can't fall asleep here. They could find me. Anyone could find me. I'd yearn for the bliss of death such a situation would bring, but I know there's no peace. Not even then. Not ever.


Weakened and agonized, I muster enough energy to stumble from the tub and the house. I peer through the dark back yard, and drag myself to a small crop of bushes and trees. Forcing my bloody hands into the dirt, I dig steadily until the hole is sufficient. Dropping into the ground, I pull the dirt back in around me and settle into the earth. The silence, the pain and the loss bring about a sense of nostalgia. Before the decade old memory can fully resurface, I fall into a dreamless sleep.




https://youtu.be/KUCyjDOlnPU