often it is the most deserving people who cannot help loving those who destroy them

"Claire!"

I heard someone . . . But whom? I don't remember my name; my purpose; anything. I remember sitting there. I was moving – somehow – sitting, but moving. There was someone next to me at the time . . . A familiar voice . . .

"Claire?"

It tolled again. Who? Who is this? Who am I? I tried to think back. Think back, think back – what happened!? My heart lurched. Not now no, no. Then, when I sat moving! Who? Never mind that! I sat, looking down. I looked up once. I'd seen red . . . looking up again, the car stopped. The car? The car! I was in a car. It stopped at someone. My protection was useless. I leaped forward through the screen . . . Glass, pain. Oh. The darkness – the moans! They're enough to drive you insane. This is most probably what has happened to me. I've gone mad. I hit the hard, stone floor with force. I remember losing everything, except my hearing. It was blurred, but I could hear someone tugging at me. They wanted to . . . bite me. Then someone else was there all of a sudden: screaming. But it was a man. This man I loved. Brotherly . . . Wait! Brother!? Yes. Mine.

He saved me from the fear. And took me to where I'd be safe. But I remember screams while I was unconscious. Not my brother. My brother cried with agony for me. Others screamed for themselves.

It had only been a few seconds before the mayhem in the room stopped. I had seen or done nothing. Lying there, I could feel nothing. Just feel a burning against my eye lids . . . a light it was. Then the back of my head ached. As soon as I noticed the pain I couldn't remember anything. Why was it hurting? I would ask myself many questions and nothing would ring a bell.

Brother? Who is my brother . . . who is that man . . . what man? What am I talking about?

A fabric covered texture began petting my wound. It was sore, but the feeling felt soft and caressing. Then a soothing voice began 'shhh'ing' into my ear. That also hurt, but the soothing made me feel homely. I stayed still as something rock-like and warm ran up my bear leg. Bear leg? Why? No, wait . . . Something sharp. It pierced into me and I began to feel even dozier than I had before.

Suddenly, I could no longer see the bright light through my thin, confused eyes. The fabric texture was gone but, somehow still there. I knew everything was still there. I just couldn't feel them anymore.

All pain began to sooth away, but as did the voice. Which made me feel a little stressed. I panicked, trying to reach out or scream. But I could do nothing. I was falling into an abyss of darkness. As I fell, I cried in pain. Every emotion I'd ever felt in my life, came with me.

I was surely dead.

A Little Piece of Heaven

So soft . . . so warm! Oh God. The feeling was so amazing. I wanted to move about and moan in pleasure. But I was still. I wouldn't dare move. Not when I had no clue of what was happening. I had no memory, whatsoever.

"Who is she?"

I heard a strong woman's voice say. It was followed by a very . . . familiar sound. No, no. I didn't know this voice, no.

"Clara. Clara Roche."

The woman's voice was interruptive in reply. "But I though you said she was the sister to Cr-"

"Quiet." The other voice demanded without shouting. It was full of authority. Honey-like. But, so, threatening.

A fabric began dabbing against an aching spot I never noticed. My head was in awful pain. I couldn't help but have a little déjà vu. A soothing hum began in a sore ear on the right. The breath felt nice against grazed skin I knew was there. That's when I noticed it was the same one to have ordered the woman quiet. To have declared a name . . . Wait. Was this my name?

I don't remember anything. Am I Clara Roche?

"Dear Heart," that soothing voice breathed.

My eyes were like butterflies. Fluttering open slightly, like the wings of those gentle, beautiful creatures.

I saw white. A room full of brightness. I couldn't see too clearly, so I rolled my eye balls around, focusing on randoms. In front of me . . . a man. That voice. His blonde hair gelled back. His eyes I could not see. For they were shielded by a pair of sunglasses. Though there was no sun. His face was expressionless, and I watched him - making notes on his features. He was very good looking; but I could see past the gorgeous, un-human like looks. He was about mid-30s I'd say. Yes, definitely! I bounced off of him onto that woman. She was Asian - but beautiful. I envied her wishing I was staring into a mirror. This made me think . . . what did I look like? Better yet. Who was I? What happened?

Am I Clara Roche?

"W-what . . . I . . ."

I couldn't speak. My voice was so shaky; it was almost like I'd forgotten I was human as well as my past. But, no, I remembered I was a girl, for obvious reasons. I knew that something was wrong – I had definitely lost my memory, or something. And I knew that this man and woman were confusing me with their talks of a Clara Roche. Me?

"Hush, my sweet. You were in a terrible accident. But you survived. Unfortunately, I cannot say the same for your family. They are all dead. But you are safe."

He told me this with care; but with every informing word he told me. A tear would overlap my eye.

It would make sense. It would explain why my head hurt so much. If I was in an accident, I could have hit my head and not remembered. Though I did not remember this family that had died; I still felt lost without anyone so close.

I would have forgotten a family. And they were dead now; not able to fill me in on what had happened, or who I was.

I started to whimper.

"M-My family . . . a-a-are d-dead?" I stammered through wet eyes and grieving moans. "Who-Who, am I-I?"

"You are Clara Roche," He replied. "You are of 9 and 10. Nineteen if you are not familiar with my words."

I am Clara Roche . . . that was me. And I'm 19 years old. I wanted to know more about myself. How did my family die?

"How . . ." he finished my sentence.

"The rain was strong yesterday afternoon. I can honestly say even I found my travel a problem. While on my way I noticed a mess along the roads.

"Moreover, I decided to investigate. That is when I saw. Your parents' car had crashed into a nearby tree; killing both them and your elder brother. He was a friend of mine. That is why I let myself get involved. When I looked past the corpses of your family, I became aware of an empty seat. Looking around, I saw your body being dragged away by something we call . . . Infected. But that is another story."

He paused, and then started speaking again.

"Running after you, I removed you from the hands of this being, which would surely hurt you. I could see you were severely injured from the car accident. Therefore, I took you to the hospital. Once brought there you were treated with love. I am dearly sorry for your loss, Miss Roche."

I couldn't remember anything. It was so frustrating for a stranger to know more about my life than I.

"What are . . . what was . . . the being, that took m-m-me . . ."

He sighed, caressing my left arm. It seemed everything hurt.

"These beings you would have known about before the accident. I believe you have lost the memory of the world's real danger, as well as your personal memory,"

He turned to the woman behind. Her face was also expressionless, and her squinted eyes made her look quite scary. If it wasn't for the dark hair cut into a cute pixie cut, or the pinkish dress top she wore; I probably would have been afraid.

- AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is going to get longer it's just my little chapter of a Claire x Wesker story so far (: