No, I'm not dead... sorry, haters. And yes, the tenth chapter is indeed called '10'. Hope the switch to first person POV doesn't confuse you.

Disclaimer: I don't own Tekken or any of the characters depicted.

#10

No matter how hard I try or how fast I run, I can't get away from them. Their voices stretch and lengthen like afternoon shadows, pulling at the strands of my hair and slashing their long, long nails down my back. It's so cold and I can't see anything at all. I just keep on running and then walking if I do manage to shake them off. It's really no matter, they always catch up with me eventually.

The world is so... black. I keep on moving, not knowing where I'm going or how I'm getting there. As long as I tread flat, solid ground, I know I'm safe from falling. I hear nothing... except for the echoes of my own footfalls. They sound... so small. Tiny even. Pit... pat... pit... pat... almost as if I were a child lost in a dark and hollow cathedral. I'm walking in a shadow of emptiness within a dead world, slick wet miasma sliding down my bare arms and into my dress, drenching it in coldness. A moment later, it's dry until the next wave of fear washes over me.

They say that true courage was to fight your fears until you won the battle or died trying. I have achieved neither. All I know is that I'm so scared that I'm blind and deaf to my own beating heart and that I keep on bursting into tears every once in a while. They always told me that I was strong and how much they envied my patience. And here I am, weak and helpless as a baby, running away from my demons instead of confronting them like I should. It's so cold... it chills everything inside of me... the veins in my wrist... the skin under my nails... the tips of my eyelashes... everything is so cold...

Sometimes, I cry out for help. Nobody hears me, nobody sees me. Maybe nobody even remembers me or misses me enough to care that I'm gone. When it all gets too heavy to bear, I start sobbing for want of everything I took for granted. In my mind, I see my name fading out from their memories, the flower that was me wilting to nothing but dirty pale brown petals because they don't care that I'm dying inside. Nobody knows, nobody cares... there was never a moment when I needed a friend so much as I do now.

It's so cold. So, so cold...

I look up and I see black. I look down and I see black. Endless, endless darkness. Voices in my head flicker through the black like flames piercing through. Familiar, friendly voices which I remember...

"See ya..."

"... wake up, hon... it's time to go..."

"Hey!"

"... Jules... I..."

I don't know if I've been here for days, months, or maybe years. I recall nothing of the beginning of this end or the end of what could have been a beginning. I have no sense of my solid, earthly body... I just feel lost and lonely like I once was as a little girl...

Time wiles away, drop after drop. I lie awake, think, and then get up and try again.

I think of ten things which make me happy. Ten little things which keep me alive. Ten things which I can barely recall.

I slow down. The running steadies to walking as I pick up the stray threads of dreams, nightmares, and things that I shouldn't be carrying within me but I am. Then I stop because I'm so tired... lie down... and curl into myself. I close my eyes and begin to remember those ten things. Not all of them, just a few. The ones which died long ago... the memories which I laid to rest as soon as my innocence ceased to breathe.

When I was barely old enough, my mother would sleep by my side every time that I'd fall ill. I was a tiny, spindly thing with twigs for limbs and toothpicks for fingers, not at all cute or the least bit adorable. But she'd always be there, right next to me, at my most vulnerable moments. I remember the heat from the palm of her hand... it seemed to glow through my skin with the slightest touch, whenever she stroked my forehead, fondled my hair, kissed me goodnight. To a sick, fever-ridden child like me, it was as if... Heaven was smiling down on me gently and forgiving me for all my selfish follies...

I used to tell her many things when the fever reached its pitch. I used to twist her name into whispers of 'Mum? Mommy? Mom-Pom?'. And I used to ramble on and on about fairy tales with too many characters or stories with no end in sight. But she'd still listen because she loved me...

And that was what kept me going. I fought back every single virus that attacked my system because... I wanted to spend some more time with her... the only one who didn't care that I was different, sad, or weak. The mother whose womb never nurtured me but whose heart always had a place for me no matter how far I ran or how hard I pushed her away. The only type of love worthy of the name because it was unconditional.

Those long lost memories are seeping over me now like a flowing river. Each molecule of each particle of the water makes each cell of my skin burn and tremble with a longing that I can't even begin to define. Summer rains, the first snowfall of winter, autumn leaves breaking off from their dry stalks and falling into a cloudy pond... two, three, four. Simple sweet scenes that mean millions to me yet nothing to anyone else.

I've caught four memories in my net so far... six more to go...

Perhaps this is the fifth one. Throwing pebbles into a fish pond. The goldfish were this soda-pop orange color with mottled brown spots on them... really ugly, I guess. I used to throw these little grey pebbles at them so that they'd swim off in shock. Funny as it was, what I most enjoyed were the ripples the stones made across the once still, crystal-clear water. I liked that they were round, soft but yet so... firm, strong... and everlasting. Everlasting like a fading memory, footprints in the sand you stepped on. Or maybe more like a photograph... a memento of a past time etched into the core of your heart.

Now that I dwell on it, I'm more of a fish than a human. Forever banished to the depths below the surface where no one dares dives into. Just me, all alone as I am at this moment, gazing wistfully at the ripples spreading out over me...

A sincere 'Hello' and 'Great job!'. Those are six and seven. The older I got, the less I got to hear them. Whether it was me again or them, I don't want to know. In the end, there are only three people I could believe in if they smiled and said those words.

The eighth thing... is something that surprises even me as it rushes back to my head.

It was a cold night complete with snow, ice, hail, and everything else I hate about winter. Snowflakes are one thing, a snowstorm is another. The wind was a monster of its own making, howling, wailing, clawing and rapping its long icy knuckles against the frozen glass in the windows. The lights had blown out so that made light a scarce entity. What the eighth thing should have been was the warmth which I fed on from beneath a sea of blankets. In a way, it was. I was safe and warm on that night.

But not alone.

My love lay asleep by my side with his arms around me, peaceful and serene for the first time in ages. The crimson of his hair glowed sleek silver in the pale light. I lifted my hand and let it wander over his skin. Velvet... like moonshine. I must have been dreaming... or was I? Am I dreaming now? Is this all just a bad dream? When will it end? When can I see him again?

The ninth thing I remember is my hand, trembling and unsure. I remember a mourning weeping willow, white roses against a cold granite gravestone, and the smell of freshly cut grass. I remember a tall figure in black, quivering like a reed in the wind. I remember my trembling, unsure hand slipping into another. I remember suppressed sorrow and withdrawn tears. I remember sensing the beginning of an end.

I still remember my hand in his. Shivering in fear against what lay ahead. But I had his hand in mine so I thought that we'd be okay...

'It'll be okay, Hwoarang... right?'

'… I don't know...'

But he held my hand and I thought we'd be fine after all...

Sometimes, I wonder...

One night, it was pouring with rain. The streets were flooded with water, the day was blackened to an ashen, starless sky. The thunder roared on and on whilst those wiser than us took cover. I didn't need to cry, the clouds did it for me. He stood outside and let the rain pelt him until he was drenched to the bone. I called out... he looked away. Water, water everywhere, soaking my hair, blinding my eyes, lashing my arms and throat until I felt nothing except him and his kiss. Our fate was sealed, the writing was on the wall, bleak and bare before my eyes.

I didn't need to scream my agony, the thunder and wind did it for me...

That was the tenth thing flying by.

Has it been days, months, years since anyone's thought of me? Am I that unimportant? Am I so insignificant? When will the time come when I can see them again? Especially... I... I wanted to spend more time with you. Could I dare think that you want to be with me too?

Maybe... maybe... if I try hard enough, I could save you. I'll find my way back to you like I always have and you won't have to worry about where I go afterwards. I'll be me... that tiny presence that watches over you and guides you home.

And nothing, not even they can stop me.

As I collapse in weariness, I hear them coming for me. I feel their breath on my back and hear their malicious cackles scorching my ears. Tendrils of pain and sorrow creep upwards from my feet to the rest of my body. They coil around my neck, strangling my cries, and pricking my skin. Pain, red-hot and mind-numbing, swallows me down and fills my lungs with its filth. The first to escape before me is a tear...

"Wait for me... I'll be there for you... I promise."

I close my eyes and wait for it to end.

I would like to thank the following:

A friend – you know who are. Thanks for this quote: "The only type of love worthy of the name is unconditional."

Evanescence – for providing some great mood music. If you squint, you can see traces of 'Missing' and 'Anywhere'.

Anyone who reads this – for being so patient and putting up with my crap. I love you guys.