Almost Doesn't Count
Didn't we almost have it all,
The night we held on 'til the morning,
You know you'll never love this way again,
Didn't we almost have it all...
He had been waiting so long.
For this moment.
And now it was happening before his very eyes.
"Yes," Bowser cried. "YES!"
He leaped up and did a victory dance around the fallen Mario. A feeling of success surged through him. He would finally be able to do all the things that he had been striving for. With Mario out of the way... he could do anything. Nothing could stop him. He could finally realize his dream...
Peach.
Bowser looked over and stared at her.
Peach lay sprawled on the ground, tears flowing from her ocean-blue eyes.
"Mario..." she wept. "Mario..."
He gently ambled over to the dejected girl. She was so... innocent. Yet, so beautiful.
He laid a paw on her shoulder. "What's wrong?" he asked.
Startled, Peach jumped to her feet. "You... beast! Get away from me!"
"I know how you feel, Peach."
---
He could remember it clearly.
The sun rose above the horizon. Bowser awoke, and looked up, still unable to believe what he saw. The life he had now.
It was perfect.
He had a mansion atop a hill. He had seven children. Most of all, he had his one true love.
He had everything.
"Terra?" Bowser gently shook his sleeping wife. "Terra."
Nothing.
"Terra... wake up."
Nothing.
She had to be alive, Bowser thought. She was his... life. His everything.
He checked for a pulse.
Nothing.
Horrified, his face went pale. It was impossible. She couldn't have just died. This was all a dream. A nightmare. This couldn't be happening!
But it was reality.
He grabbed the lifeless Terra off the bed and held her in his arms, pressing her to his body, feeling the emptiness inside her, inside himself.
His whole life as it was was slipping away from him. So suddenly, yet so quickly...
---
"No. You don't. You don't understand it at all."
"It may not seem like it, but..."
"You... you killed Mario!"
He felt nothing at this accusation. No guilt. Yet no pride.
"I know."
"Don't you... don't you know how much he means to me? Don't you understand that he's everything to me?"
He understood. More than he wanted to.
Bowser nodded.
Peach could not see it, though. She was turned away, facing Mario.
"You're an emotionless... monster."
Oh, how he wished he had no emotions. Then everything would be so much easier.
"I'm not a monster, Peach."
"How could you say that? After all you've done? To Mario? To me? Don't you know that my life has been... torn to shreds? Crashed down on me?"
She really is just like me, Bowser thought.
Silence.
Peach turned to face Bowser.
"All I wanted," Bowser said softly, "was for everything to be back how it used to be."
Peach stared at him in disbelief.
She was feeling the same thing.
"It's not what you think," he said.
More silence.
"I wasn't always the bad guy."
Peach looked down.
"I... Peach, I have feelings too."
---
He couldn't tell if she had been listening or not. She had been looking at the ground the whole time.
Bowser had explained the whole story to her, how his wife had died, how he had lost his seven children, how his perfect life had been torn apart. How the first time he had locked eyes with Peach, his heart had exploded with fiery passion. How he so desperately had wanted her. Not just her. His life. All he had wanted was his perfect life back. How it used to be.
And for the first time since he had lost Terra, a tear flowed down Bowser's cheek.
"Peach?" he called softly.
No answer.
"Peach," he tried again.
Nothing.
He took the princess's head in his paws and lifted it up.
Peach's eyes were completely white.
A wave of horror swept through him.
He had almost had it all.
But almost didn't count, he realized.
She was dead. Just like...
---
"Terra," he said aloud. For the first time since she had died.
"Yes?"
"Terra," Bowser said in shock, looking around, "Is that really you?"
"Oh, Bowser."
Could it be? he thought.
"Come with me."
And Bowser felt himself rising up, up into the sky, into the ranks of heaven.
He would get his life back. Everything would be just the way it used to be.
And this time, almost did count.