AN: Hello there, dear readers. This is a drabble I wrote because when I finished the Hollow Boy I felt just... well hollow, really. I almost threw the book out of the window. I needed to do something and here it is.
English is not my mother tongue, so there will be mistakes. Feel more than free to point them out. Reviews are more than welcomed.
She saw him every time she closed her eyes.
He was there, standing in front of her. His pale skin gleaming in the darkness of that subterranean corridor; his dark hair unkempt, his eyes full of concern, looking at her.
He was there, his chest torn apart by a bleeding wound caused by the poltergeist she had stirred because she couldn't deal with her childish jealousy in the middle of a hunting. She was the cause he had been there, dead because of her.
So she had left.
She could deal with a ghost, but she couldn't live knowing that she might be the cause that horrible vision could become a reality.
This is your doing.
It wasn't, at least that time. Bu she knew that she could have very well been it.
Her ability had become a danger to her teammates and that was not something she could tolerate. But she couldn't stop being herself, either.
So she had left.
She would continue exploring her talent, she knew that as selfish as that sounded, she needed to. Death was coming, after all, and whatever that meant would probably put them in danger.
She could not live knowing that. They were better without her, despite how much they thought she was wrong.
She had seen him, and still saw him every time she thought about him. The living him anyway, because for her they were both very real. What it was and what it could have most likely been. Thanks to her.
She had left them because she needed to know that the Hollow Boy would never become a reality to no one but her.
She had left because she wanted -needed- to protect them.
Him.