{ - Memories of You - } % { - Teaser - }
"If you keep your hope burning strong, it will keep you safe in the darkest of places."
Welcome, people who may be reading this. This is a small teaser/prologue for my upcoming story ~Memories of You~. If you can't tell from the story summary or the very end of this "teaser," this is a ElswordxEve story. This is plainly a slice-of-life story, so if you've read by other two stories and liked those battle scenes, they will not make a reappearance here. Anyways, I believe this will be successful(since I plan to write a few chapters before I debut it or anything...)and I hope you all have a pleasant journey with these slightly "adjusted" characters. So, without further ado..."Memories of You."
Happy, fun things never last. They die within moments, tiny wisps of emotion blown away by the winds of cruelty and misfortune. We try to recreate ourselves, trying to make sure such a pitiful end does not happen again. But, it is so difficult to grasp, with our tiny child-like fingers that yet haven't accustomed to the reality of this world. It's an endless struggle of pain, hate, and guilt.
I am a perfect example of this. My mother died when I was a young age, leaving my sister and I to be taken care of by our "heroic father." He was said to be a child prodigy, an unmatched singer and pianist. Despite his talent, he never once signed a record deal or took money for his work. After mom got sick and was put in the hospital, he decided to finally debut professionally and decided to hold a performance. The concert was booked by record companies and fans alike. It was going to be amazing. But, before my father could perform, my mom died. He went insane, drunk by his own lust for her and a raging desire to see her again. He did not attend the concert, ruining his entire reputation, but he didn't care. He became a slob, being an alcoholic and drug-using piece of trash. Unloved by the world and ignored by his children, he became abusive. It became a problem quickly. The days and nights became a wilderness for my sister and I. We were just trying to survive from that beast, often hiding in the closet or under the bed when he was drunk. We were starved prey with nowhere to go...It was a complete nightmare. Eight years later, my father committed suicide. My sister and I were completely alone. We didn't know if we had other family members and we certainly didn't have any inheritances. The small condo we lived in was paid off, so we didn't have to worry about mortgage or the issue of being kicked out. The only problem was water, electricity, and application fees. Running water and electricity required money, a commodity we did not have. Since my sister was older than me, she decided to work, and put me in school. It's been two years since that time and I'm a third-year at my high-school now. Fantastic, right...?
My name is Elsword Sieghart. I assume you can guess who my sister is then. I made it into a prestigious high-school and I'm at the top of my class. The classes are small, organized, and full of diverse people. The unfortunate thing is, this life is becoming dull. Waking up, changing into a fresh pair of clothes, walking out the door with guilty thoughts about my sister, attending school, talking with the interesting yet old faces at my school, and coming back home is dull. It's the daily routine I've constructed for myself, but that doesn't make it any better. I think sometimes, is this truly going to help me? My father, who was unparallelled and had the world to play at his fingertips, failed miserably. I mean hell, he bloody killed himself! Having seen hardship and suffering my entire life, I can't dismiss the thought of how fragile we are. We are utterly helpless. It is so, so difficult to attain a goal and stay on the track to achieve that goal. But, I know that I have to attain that goal. I can't let my sister, who is working day and night to keep food on the table and the electricity running, suffer any longer. Whenever I wake up and get ready, I see her, making my breakfast with a cheery smile. She urges me on each day, saying that we'll get through this. But, even she has her limits. I can see the dark circles under her crimson eyes and the tiredness that continues to pile onto her.
The heat was excruciating. I could feel small beads of sweat trail down my forehead and onto my neck, the salty water clinging to my neck as it trailed down the crevice of my shirt. The wood panel ceiling greeted me with an empty blankness, the uncanny splits and cracks of the material pulling me from the illusion of my dreams and into the reality of the world. It was the final day of summer and it was blazing. If I had an egg, it would implode once it touched the street of a sidewalk...Get it? Because it's really hot...No? Alright. I would start as a third year tomorrow at the Kibo and Yume high-school. They were the founders of the school and the building was named after them. It was a high-ranking school and only accepted students who maintained a 3.8 GPA. It would be another two years before I was finally done, but my sister still wanted me to attend college as well. I'm arguing with her, but that is still up in the air as of now. Third year was supposed to be the most difficult year and I was somewhat ready for it. If all went well, I would have a few of my friends in my classes. We only met up a few times over the vacation, but that's because they were all busy with their families or work. They're pretty great if you ask me.
The year would be a long and intense one. I didn't know what was ahead of me, but I expected it to be the same as before. I mean, without those friends, my life would be hell. There's no way that I can live in such a darkened world like this without some sort of "shield." However, all shields can be broken. Whatever happened next, I didn't know if it was a blessing or a curse. Even now, with everything said and done, I still can't believe what happened during that year. It all started the very next day, when I was picking up a video game from the nearest store that I happened to have a part-time job at for the summer. Her white, flowing hair was beautiful and her skin was the color of porcelain. Calculating eyes stared into my own crimson ones. I just didn't expect the slap that followed soon after. But, that's how every love story starts, right? And if anything, it starts and ends in a memory. A memory of you.