I've been working forty hours a week, but on the weekends I have been playing Origins.
Origins has always been my favorite alongside three.
Suddenly, I received the thought, "Doesn't Heather/Cheryl remember Travis?"
So this popped up.
Scarring the Armada, my Kokoro and Eliot story of Dead or Alive will be polished later. Procrastination is an aggressive epidemic.
"Would you like to stop at a motel for tonight? I'm hitting Brahms."
"Sounds great to me. I'm beat!"
The car made a slight forty degree angle into the motel parking lot just in Brahms. The past few days have been a struggle for Heather, especially since she learned so much about herself, found her father dead in their welcomed apartment, and got rid of that malevolent, obnoxious antagonist engraved with the name "Claudia." It was time for the teenager to take a rest; she completed her goal. Heather aided Douglas inside; his leg was far from healing. Once he rested himself onto the bed, Heather joined in on the one next. "I will explain everything to the police tomorrow," Douglas started. "It would be too much for you."
Later that night, Heather seemed almost restless. As exhausted as the girl was, she was too ached in the heart to sleep. The nightmares tormented her. The environments she recently encountered ate at her heart. Heather rose from her bed. The girl sneakily crept out to get fresh air.
"The lonely moon. Heh. Always been there for me." A slightly older man stepped to the placemat. With a key in-hand, he reached out to open the room. "The key doesn't fit," he heaved exhaustily. "I'll have to go back to the clerk." Travis turned his head to spot a young teenage girl. She walked slowly, showing her exhaustion. A gut pushed to his inner skin. A closer look was aimed to the girl. "Hey, you!" He suddenly yelled.
"Are you yelling to me?" The girl turned her body towards the older man.
"You shouldn't be out in the dark this late alone. Are you lost or something?"
Heather felt her gut hit her inner skin.
"I'll be fine." Heather continued to walk.
"I've traveled here quite a few times and experienced things you probably would never want to hear. I'm warning you, Kid, it's dangerous."
Heather turned her head again.
Her hazel eyes spoke to Travis, as if he knew exactly who the girl was. Her memory twisted in his mind; the sight of the girl's burned body, her calling of the siren, her manifested nightmare that ended his. Those memories showed through her tired eyes. He understood her, almost as if he knew what she just went through.
"Alessa?"
Heather was almost walking away until that name stopped her. She remembered those years. She remembered that day when she was saved by a man. He pulled her out of her burning house. He carried her, as a loving father did. At the same time, she remembered her own father- not her biological father, yet her real father. The memory of Harry pierced in her mind as she slowly traced back to the fire. "M-My name is Cheryl," she suddenly blurted.
"I am deeply sorry. You just reminded me of a girl I saved from a fire years ago."
Heather looked back at the man. The sudden reunion caused her to wearily shed another tear. Heather thought her tears were done. Heather thought those tears were wiped away from her body.
She tried to wipe them off her face.
"That town next. Silent Hill. I've been there. Did you just come from there?"
"Yes." Her eyes met the man again. The memories traced back.
She remembered him. She remembered the mirrors.
"I saw blood on your jacket and I thought-" Travis gave a breath once he heard a whimper. "Why was a young girl like you there?"
Heather couldn't help but feel Alessa's memory trap her again. All she had did for Travis- she never thanked him. Alessa never thanked him. Cheryl never did. It was up to Heather to do it, due to the idea that the time may be the only chance she would have. Heather also felt it was necessary to apologize for the things she had done to the poor man.
"Are you alright, Cheryl?"
Heather took a sigh. She paused for a good half a minute.
"I am Cheryl, and I'm Alessa."
"You're Alessa?" Travis took a step forward.
"I caused you so much trouble, but I am also grateful that you still cared. Thank you for everything. I wouldn't be alive today if it wasn't for you."
Travis sighed. He never knew he would run into Alessa again, even if she was much different, younger, and most importantly alive. Heather smiled to the man. "It was great seeing you again. I never thought I would." With that said, Heather took a step forward to the truck driver. She paused for five seconds. The girl then wrapped her arms around the older man.
"My father also thanks you."
Once Heather broke the embrace, she gave a happy wave to the truck driver. "Your father is around?" Travis then called. A shook of the head and a sink to the floor explained the stain on her jacket. "I'm sorry." Once condolences were given, Heather scratched her hip. The teenager began to walk back to her motel room. "Wait!"
Heather turned back around.
"We've both been through a lot. Do you have anywhere to go?"
The teenager turned back around to see Douglas at the door.
"I think I'm fine for now. You've done enough for me."
With a smile, Heather ran back to Douglas.
Travis bid her a friendly wave, and an au revoir. Once Douglas was approached, the lone trucker made his way back to the clerk. The detective seemed questioned of the man. "Who is he? A friend of yours?" Travis soon received the right key. With a wave to Douglas, he finally unlocked the key to his room.
"I guess you could say that. He's done a lot for me."
"I guess you could say he was a Dad once."