"Hey Sunshine…"
"You're not real."
"Hm. Not real eh? You're looking a little dim today sunshine, let me warm you up."
"YOU ARE NOT REAL!"
Roxas sat up in his bed, beads of sweat lining his forehead.
Not only do I talk to imaginary people, I also fucking dream about them too.
"Hey Roxas…"
I'm pretty sure I'm awake now…
"Yes you are wide awake…"
"But you aren't really here…"
"I am here… I'm here because you're here."
Roxas opened his eyes and saw the stranger sitting on his windowsill, smoking his cigarette.
The figure got up and sat on the edge of Roxas' bed.
"If you make so much as a squeak… you'll be my new, shiny ashtray." He said, gesturing towards Roxas with the lit cigarette. Roxas froze… too scared to even move, let alone talk.
"Do you remember anything?" asked the stranger, leaning closer to Roxas.
The smell of the cigarette was so reassuring. Well, I may be dying anyway… Roxas reached and took the cigarette from stranger's hands. He took a drag and suppressed a fit of coughs that threatened to burst from his throat. The stranger took the cigarette back, took one last, long drag and put it out on his arm.
"Remember anything now?" asked the stranger. Roxas ignored the question and reached toward the stranger's hood, if he was going to die, he would at least see his killer's face. The stranger allowed his hood to be pushed back from his face.
Red…
I remember.
"Roxas? Roxas?" the stranger shook the unconscious Roxas' shoulder. Well, I think he remembered.
XIII
"Where's Roxas?" asked Ollette, lounging on the couch in the usual spot. "I dunno, I'll go see whether he's still at home."
Hayner left and started to Roxas' home.
"Roxas! Roxas!" called Hayner just outside Roxas' door. He tried the handle and found it unlocked. He walked in and found an empty bed. Roxas was gone and in his place was a burnt-out cigarette.