Dying (Again)

It was cold and the rain was pouring down. I was wearing a dark raincoat, trying to find a place to stay. I didn't have a home. I was a fifteen-year-old girl living in any alleyway I could find, and it was just my look to have been born in the crime-ridden city of Westopolis.

I scowled as I passed a little kid leaning up against the old brick wall behind a Chinese restaurant. That's where I often slept. He was wearing surprisingly white gloves and had on a similar dark raincoat with the hood up, just like I was. He glanced upward as I trudged by, but I looked briskly away as soon as I managed to catch his bloody red eyes. A chill ran down my spine. They were so bright, so sinister, that I broke into a run. I heard him snicker as I went. What a strange kid...

The next day, I went back into the alleyway. I wanted my spot back, and I was curious to see if he would still be there. I reached down and felt the steel knife that I always tucked into my sock. Then I confronted him. It looked as if he hadn't really moved. In fact, he was in the exact same place, only now he was leaning with his back up against the wall, and he was twirling a pistol in his right hand. It was the same kind of gun that policemen use, and a fresh twinge of fear ran through my body. I stood my ground anyway, because he was obviously trying to intimidate me. I could hear my heart pounding in my chest as I spoke.

"Um, that's where I sleep." I awkwardly explained, "Could you, well, move?" The kid snickered sadistically again. When he spoke, I realized he wasn't a kid. His voice was deep and masculine, like an adult's.

"Looks like you need a new spot."

"Come on, guy." I stepped toward him. He tensed up and moved away from the wall, lifting "his" gun. I grabbed my knife.

"Oh, so you're tougher than you look." He mocked me and I got, well, a little more than angry at that.

"What makes you so great?"

His voice was calm, reasoning with me, "Now, now, let's not jump to conclusions. I'm not your average street jerk. Just put down the knife. I don't want to mess up such a pretty face, okay Sweetie?"

"Shut up!" I came at him and he fired. The lead grazed my left cheek as I instinctively ducked out of the way.

When the "Kid" realized he didn't hit me, it was too late to prevent me from jumping him. We wrestled for the gun and he easily overpowered me. I was pinned to the musty ground by my shoulders with a gun to my forehead in seconds flat.

"Any last words?" His tone was so extremely sinister that I wanted to close my eyes, but I fought the urge, wanting to look straight into his face as he killed me, an act of raw fury. Slowly and bravely, I answered.

"Yes. Who are you?"

"Well, I'm going to kill you anyway, so..." With one hand, he reached up and threw his hood back. I must have looked like I was petrified in stone when I saw his face. He had black and red spikes that crazily jutted out in all directions behind him. His huge ruby eyes burned into my soul. And, through even the cloak of terror, I saw who he really was. I knew him from another life.

"Shadow..." The name passed my lips before my thoughts. Somehow, I remembered the name. His eyes opened wide. Then it all came flooding back to me. The ARK, my death, my disease, my grandfather... and Shadow.

"...Maria?" His face was blank in bewilderment.

"Yes."

His look of shock froze, then slowly morphed into a cold glare. "I don't believe you."

"What?" I asked, wondering if all of this wasn't just a dream.

Now his glare was a look of pure hatred. "It's impossilbe. Maria's DEAD!"

And then he killed me.