Overdrive
Things never should have ended like this, you know that for certain.
You aren't upset over your fake fairytale ending because you lie on the ground bleeding to death, ready to be eaten by the Heartless that somehow won, no, you're upset because you never got to say goodbye. You think of the image of that woman with auburn locks and pure sky blue eyes, tears welling in them and a deep frown on her normally bright, smiling features. Your heart that is about to get devoured constricts painfully and your brain seems to hammer you with thoughts and feelings of guilt.
Regret - you never really knew what that word meant until now.
You regret not saying how you felt. You regret not doing more to show her how much you cared. Now, she'll never know. She'll never get to hear, never get to see, how much you love her. But you cannot lie that you much rather die here than her being in your place. You cannot hide the fact that you were stupid, heading into a battle alone against nearly a hundred Heartless. This, your death, is probably the punishment for such illogical rationality.
Your strength failed you. You believed that you could win, but you weren't strong enough, you weren't good enough. And now as the creatures of darkness with haunting golden eyes come upon your dying body, you've accepted your fate. Perhaps you will not leave with such a heavy, broken heart.
Your breathing is slowing; you can feel your heartbeat begin to become nonexistent. Your vision is beginning to blur, and you can smell your own blood, the stench staining the oxygen you so desperately want, need. You close your eyes and you relax on the cold floor – you know your time is now.
For the last time, you see the image of that woman with auburn hair and blue eyes staring at you, smiling, beckoning you to come toward her. You want to, you want to so much, but you try to convince her that you can't this time. You won't be coming back.
She looks like she understands.
She always knew you were a hero that could never escape from your enemies. She probably always knew you'd die in battle, proudly, knowing you tried your hardest.
You sob once, letting your pain be known to the world before the Heartless finally lean down on your corpse and begin to carve out your heart.
You apologize, because you were never good enough.