I'm sorry for making ya'll wait so long :( But school's over so regular updates are coming! Yay! :D
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I remember the first time I ever had to take a heart.
It was in some shady world that not too many people visited. I remember dark clouds looming above; He was almost ready to collapse the world, but I was to steal a few hearts, first. Prove my worth.
I found this kid…this little boy, about eight or nine years old. He was kinda tall, though, with a messy mass of short, reddish-brown hair. I really liked that color. I wish my hair was that color.
I had him backed up in a corner, and he was shaking pretty badly. I'd be scared too. I raised my sword (which He had infused with his dark powers so that I could draw hearts instead of instantly killing them) high above my head.
I'll never forget the look in his eyes. The amount of fright in them had so much power I can't even remember what color or what size they were.
And then I stabbed down, deep into his chest.
And I will never, ever, forget that scream.
For even a heartless being as I was, I cringed visibly. The sound was so sharp, so shrill, and so full of inexplicable and undeniable pain that I think tears came to my eyes. It was such a loud, loud scream…when I think real hard about it today; I can still hear it echoing in my ears. It was the saddest, heartbreaking sound I had ever heard: the sound of a person who had just lost the one thing that had kept them alive. And the power I felt by tearing out his heart, the guilt boring deep in my mind, the blood pouring onto the cold, dead ground below…none of that truly haunted me. Just his scream.
I think it's because it reminded me of mine.
000
It was an unusually cold November night on my island.
I was a little kid, then, about six years old, seated in the backseat of my parent's car. I wasn't wearing a seatbelt, because I was little and I had never been taught how to use one. My parents didn't fasten me in, either. Which was fine with me; whenever we drove, I liked sitting with my legs folded under me so that I was tall enough to look out the window.
I loved car rides. I liked the way the lines on the street blurred, how the trees whipped by almost endlessly, and how the clouds had to race to keep up with us. When it was cold out, I liked breathing on the window to make it foggy, so that I could draw with my finger pictures and smiley faces and hearts into the white film. I also liked writing words, too (even though I could never figure out how come the words looked right inside the car, but when I went outside they were all backwards. I figured it was magic).
We rode down to a restaurant together. Actually, it was more of a bar than a restaurant. And actually, it was more like I asked to tag along. My parents often left me at home when they went to go eat dinner, and I always felt left out. They took me along so I'd stop whining.
When we arrived, they clambered inside while I tottered after them. They immediately went into the dimmed drinking section, but a lady with pretty orange hair stopped me from going in after them. She set up a little table for me and talked with me until my parents were done. When that time came about an our later, they staggered outside, and I ran after them.
(Allow me to explain one quick thing: my parents were perpetually drunk. I've never seen them fully and normally sober before. It, at the time, was a normal thing and I always believed their drunkenness was all a silly game. When they weren't completely drunk they were hung-over, snappish, and mean. I liked them better drunk)
They were giggling to each other and saying stuff in a weird, slurred way that I couldn't make out. I smiled and giggled myself. I wanted to play too.
My mother opened the front door, while I watched my father open the back door shakily and climb in.
"G-get isnnshh, girle!"
She was talking to no one, really, but I knew she meant me. I expressed my happiness in a squeal and clapped my hands; I was never allowed in the front seat, but when my parents were wasted they didn't care how unsafe it was and that I was three times smaller than them. I quickly hopped inside while my mother slammed the door shut without bothering to put my seat belt (at the time I didn't care – more window time for me – but I never had imagined it'd cost me everything). She jumped in herself, started the car and we drove off.
I had never been in a car with my parents while they were drunk before. It was an odd ride, full of swerving, skidding, and other cars honking at us, all while my parents were giggling and singing in a drunken language I couldn't understand. We made a lot of odd, scary turns that made me grip the seat tightly, but I didn't say anything. I knew it wouldn't do much good.
All of the sudden, there was this overbearing blaring light blinding me, appearing from nowhere out of the darkness. There was this unbelievably loud horn sound, and I screamed in fear. But the sound was too loud, and they weren't listening to me anyway.
Then, metal and glass erupted before my eyes. The front window shattered as the front of the car crumbled like thin, fragile paper. The vehicle shook and thrashed violently, as the smell of smoke and copper filled my nose.
Then I was suddenly flying.
And all I could feel was this painfully cold feeling in my chest.
And then fire.
And then I screamed.
The pain hadn't even registered in my mind yet and I was screaming already. It was all I could do. My body felt numb and cold but there was this fiery eruption in my chest. I think I may've been writhing but I don't really remember it. It was the most intense hurt I had ever felt (and to this day it's still the worse) in my entire life.
I think I was still screaming even when the world grew black for me.
000
Yeah. That's probably why it still bothers me to this day, even as I'm in the way I am now. His scream was just like mine. And every time I think about either of ours I can feel that fire inside me flare up.
I remember that I turned around, after the boy had faded away, and looked up at Him. He nodded his approval, grinning wickedly, and flicked his eyes towards another alleyway, where a man was running towards to seek safety from the chaos swirling around him.
I could feel my throat become hoarse, as my heart sank a little.
I wasn't looking forward to hear another scream.
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Done at last! I'm pretty sure no one is even reading this anymore…but I'm finishing this for me, and for anyone interested. Any and all reviews are welcome and appreciated.
