Dear Readers,
I am finally getting back to this story. I apologize again for the long hiatus, life does not indulge hobbies sometimes :)
I was re-reading this story as I started to write again to avoid falling in any plotholes and I noticed that had wreaked havoc on my formatting! So I am going to go through and re-post all this stuff, fixing the errors along the way :)
And after that, a new chapter...maybe even three! Thanks for reading!
For all you new readers out there...this story is set in the Fast Forward universe. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: The story is mine, OC's are mine, but nothing else, unfortunately. Sigh.
February 5, 2114
Memories.
It's funny how something can mean so much to one person, but nothing to everyone else. I know they care…I know they are trying to understand. But it's impossible to sympathize when there are no words to describe the feeling of loss—the gut-wrenching, terrifying feeling of not knowing who you are, or where you come from.
Or in my special case, what you are.
Actually, the not-knowing I can deal with. It's something I've come to live with, all these years. What really gets me is the fact that I could know, if I only let myself. But I can't. I can't for one simple reason. If I let those memories come back to me, I will die. Not physically—though that is what it would lead up to, eventually—but mentally. I know, without knowing how or why, I just know—that if I let myself remember, I will lose my mind. Even writing now, I can feel the insanity, haunting the edges of my consciousness. I can hear the mocking whispers, calling out to me:
Let go…remember…end the pain, the uncertainty…perish.
I want to remember…sometimes so badly that it hurts…hurts almost as much as the fact that I can't remember…but then I feel myself start to slip and it reminds me why I must hold on, at least for a while longer. I have promises to keep.
The rebels have been good to me, ever since they found me and brought me to their base. They had no reason to help, and every reason not to, for fear of spies from their enemies. But they did anyway, and I must stay with them long enough to repay my debt. I know I had honor once…someone taught it to me, so long ago…it's the only memory I can allow that doesn't let the madness seep in. Though, it is hard to be honorable when shedding blood is your only hope of survival.
But I'm getting off point. The fact of the matter is, when this war is over…if it ever is…then, I can let go. But until that time comes, I must stay sane, and finish the job. Until tomorrow, then…if there is one.