Death to Pain
R E Y N A
She dreams about him.
On nights that were too cold to not fill her with nightmares that keep her tossing about in wrinkled sheets and tear-stained pillows, she dreams about him.
'''
He will regret returning. He will regret asking for your forgiveness.
You will regret ever giving it.
Little girl, you've lost your home. Where to run to now?
'''
Her mind dives into the abyss of the past before she can stop it, and she finds herself tumbling in after, headfirst, as metal chains coil around her arms and drag her down with a heavy anchor sliding across steel and cement, trying to find a hold to reality.
'''
There's a barren slope of rolling hills stretching across the horizon like restless waves frozen in time, held in beaming hues of emerald and blue.
The sunshine filters through the murk, puffing onto her face like billows of lingering spring.
Percy Jackson stands by her side and he won't speak to her.
It suits her fine because she doesn't want to speak to him either.
'''
You better shut up.
You better keep silent.
Else he'll twist your words and stab your back with them.
'''
A ship is tossed against a dusty precipice and dirt spews from its jagged edges, wood splintering apart and burying into dry soil.
She watches, stunned.
Percy Jackson blinks and he flicks his hand forward.
The mast of the ship straightens and ropes arc around each other in messy tangles, taut and frayed.
"What are you doing?" she asks him.
"Helping you," he says.
"Helping me to what?"
His answer is simple and blunt. "Forgive and forget."
'''
It's easy for people who haven't lost their family.
It's easy for little girls who haven't had dreams crushed before their eyes.
It's easy to see that the glass is really just half-empty when it's filled with blood and tears.
'''
He leads her across miles and miles of nothingness and she follows in his steps, afraid to take his hand.
"Do you remember what this is?" he asks her.
"No," she says. "Am I supposed to?"
"It's your island. Circe's Island."
She looks around, at the specks of hot sand brushing low over cracked patches of soil, and doesn't believe him.
"It's all that's left of it," he clarifies. "In your memory."
"This isn't what it looks like."
He shakes his head. "It's what it always looks like."
'''
Homecomings are always so touching aren't they?
Especially when you're all alone and there's no one to keep you company.
This is how a lone wolf lives.
Howl at the moon at midnight, and pray someone will answer the call.
'''
"Do you know who that is?"
It's a small, frail girl hunched forward on her knees, standing behind a blustery mist made of dreams and memories, woven together to break her heart apart. The hems of her dress fold and bunch together under grimy ankles as her hands bury into the ground, surfacing briefly before sinking in again with a throaty cry that burns her lungs.
"It's you."
She blinks and stutters and almost cries. Almost. "No, it can't be."
"It's you," he repeats firmly.
"But…"
The little girl stands and wipes her tears with grimy hands. The smell of shipwreck and broken palm trees splash over them in haunting waves that slap across the scarred remains of her unbeating heart.
"I'll find him…" she whispers brokenly.
Night seeps in, drowning away the light, and a chill snakes down her arms. Stars scatter onto black velvet overhead, like diamonds floating in a thick pool of ink.
"I'll find him…and I'll kill him," the little girl says, louder this time. "It's his fault. All of it."
"That isn't me," she turns to him, pleading.
He only nods.
"I'll kill him."
"That was the past. I was young and…"
"He'll pay. For all of this."
He stares at her, face blank and assured.
She whimpers. "It was the past."
His arm brushes hers and he takes her shoulder gently. "For you, it never was."
'''
I will not forget.
I will not forgive.
How long has that been your motto, little girl?
'''
"Do you know why you hate me?" His question is short and simple, bit it still makes her head spin and her heart stop.
"You destroyed my home."
He shakes his head and his green eyes darken, looking back up at the starless sky. "Do you know why you still hate me?"
"Because I haven't forgotten that yet."
He stares at her, silent and unobtrusive as she draws herself together into a ball and falls to the ground gracelessly.
"Would you like to?" he asks. "Would you like to forget?"
'''
She wakes before the answer can slip from her lips.
"Yes, I would."
Well this is certainly a lot more confusing, isn't it? I wanted to portray Reyna's confusion and uncertainty - and getting into a person's head is far from easy. It's a new writing style I'm experimenting with, so I'd appreciate if you tell me what you thought about it.
Think of this as a separate piece of work from the last chapter.
With all the feedback you guys have been giving me, this was inevitable. :)
...
Click that review button and tell me your thoughts!
-HVM