DAYBREAK Chapter II A Mother's Love

She thought she was awake but she had drifted off into her dream world once more. She did not realize that this place was her Hades until she saw the bodies. She stifled a cry. Somehow, they looked more revolting than ever before in their silence, like they kept a secret behind their dull eyes that had brought them to their graves. She could not bear to look at the blank faces of these corpses. Their eyes were wide open, as though they never knew what had happened when death came to their doors and they answered. They were slaughtered like mere sheep and cattle upon the day of the feast. She could not bare their stares so she quickly looked away.

At once she saw that something had changed. Above her, there appeared a sky where infinite darkness had once been. It was red, like the sunsets she had so loved to watch. But it gleamed with all the spite of death, and it seemed that the sky itself had been dyed this terrible color, that the sun was not at all at fault for this occurrence. It would not fade, though she stared at it for minutes then hours before she knew. The color grew deeper as it stretched out towards the heavens for as far as her eye could see. It seemed that blood flowed through the very sky and it would never stop. She saw that the ground had reflected the sky's color and everything was in her eyes, crimson. She herself was no longer pale and colorless, but enveloped with a scarlet light that would not disappear. And she saw that in her hands there was a large piece of glass, so sharp she thought it would cut her hand, and that blood dripped from it relentlessly with no seeming end. She saw that those bodies had been slit at the throat though no blood came from the wound. The blood would not stop, and she let the blade fall to her feet out of sheer revulsion. It did not break but remained solid and menacing as it continued to bleed. She backed away from it; she could feel nausea churning in her stomach. It came through her throat before she could stop it.

She held her hand upon her mouth to stop a second wave of sickness that she could feel was climbing up her throat. It was all too appalling. "Make it stop!" But it was the requiem that answered her call, though it sounded so different from the first. It did not mourn for the slaughtered, it laughed for their death, just as those villains laughed when they saw her suffer in their hands. It was boasting its power; it was rejoicing their deaths, and it was as menacing as the bloody glass and the wide staring eyes of the corpses. She had to get away! She backed even more, but found that she had tripped over something and had fallen to her feet. She looked and saw that he was staring at her and he had, like all the others, a bloodless wound on his throat. She looked at her hands and the blade was once more within her grasp. It was dripping all over her, bathing her with their blood. She wanted to drop it once more, to let it go, but she could not will her hands to obey. It was as though the blade had found its place within them. It seemed to be a prefect fit. A horrifying realization formed within her mind.

"I killed them." It was barely a whisper but it was like a dagger thrust into her heart. Her tears flowed freely down her face. And all around her, voices rose from their bodies and screamed at her. It was a horrendous pitch, which sent shivers through her bones. She started to wail and cry but to no avail.

Then she saw that these corpses were not at all faceless. One had soft auburn hair like hers and long beautiful fingers. Over him, a pretty girl with long dark hair and at her side, a young boy with slanted eyes. She looked down at him, the brown haired boy whom she had loved, and she saw that beside him was a tall man, with darker hair than even his. She knew that she had caused all these though how and why she cannot recall. She was a murderer and she had killed so many people, people who cared for her and were dear to her. And she saw that she had killed thousands more, though their names she could not say. She knew that they were innocent like her father and brother, but she had killed them all with equal malice and strength, which she did not know she contained. How dreadful it all was that she wished she were dead as well.

She stared at the ugly piece of glass on her hand. She was shaking even harder than before but her wailing had stopped and her sobs were small as though muffled by her own sorrow. She could no longer find tears in her eyes. They had all dried up and were she to cry once more, she feared that they would be red like everything else around. She wanted none of it.

She held it up. Again, her arms shook and her hands threatened to release the beastly thing before she could do her work. But she held on, determined to do at least this one task with her full knowledge. She knew her courage was faltering and once again the fear of death crept into her mind. Still, she would not let go of the blade. She placed it at the side of her throat. Small beads of blood trickled form the scratches made by her unstable hands. Finally, she took a deep breath and gathered up all her strength. She stuck it at her neck and for a split second she felt absolute pain. Then pulled it all the way towards the side so that she created a deep gash just like the others'. She knew she was dying when she felt the shard fall from her hands. She fell beside him and her eyes slowly closed.

And then, she woke up.

I'm alive? She had woken up with a start and she heard the echo of her screams still lingering within the enclosed room. Already she could hear the patter of feat as they struck the hard tiles of the halls. They were coming fast towards her room. She felt the sudden urge to hide. How could she explain what brought out such hellish sounds from her mouth? How could she tell them it was all a terrible dream if she herself believed it to be real? But her door soon opened and one after another, men and women dressed in white robes piled into the cramped little space that was her room. She felt shame in all its disgusting glory.

Over and over they asked her what had happened and over and over she said it was merely a dream. But they looked at her with disbelief and tried to gather the truth for themselves. They lifted her hands and checked her pulse. They stuck more instruments unto her body, more wires on her chest and tubes in her arms. They would investigate the little black box beside her then leave, and then look back once more as though it held all the answers that man ever asked. More came, women in tight white uniforms, with basins of steaming water, fresh towels and clean sheets. At once, they flocked around her, as though she was a babe, utterly helpless and incapable of caring for herself. And these nurses wiped her sweaty face and arms with fluffy towels soaked in the hot water. Their warmth gave her momentary peace and soothed her nerves, so she gave into their pampering without further protest. She lifted her arms when they asked, and then her head that they might place a new pillow below it. When everyone else was gone, one nurse remained to change her clothes. She could see that they were damp with sweat and they had a faint stench of death about them that only she could smell. The nurse tried to take off her undergarments but she covered herself in protest. For god's sake, she was fifteen! She would not tolerate being undressed by other people other than herself. The woman merely smiled, and small dimples on both cheeks manifested themselves on her plump oval face. And with almost a swift grace Sakura could not catch, she took off the last of her garments and dropped it unto the floor with the rest of her wet clothes. Sakura's face turned a bright shade of red, as though she were struck by a fever. She looked down and saw that her small breasts lay bare. She was naked waist up and she quickly covered herself with her blanket. Again, the woman merely smiled, as though it was a normal occurrence to her. She took a towel from the table beside her and soaked it with the warm water in the basin. She twisted off the excess liquid and all at once she was wiping the astounded girl's arms.

"Don't think much about it," she said as she went on with her work. "We're both girls here, you know, and you haven't got anything that I don't, and bigger," she said with a wink. All at once, Sakura's face colored, and the deep scarlet blush extended even to her neck. She looked down again at her own small chest and wagered it didn't even come to half the size the woman's were.

"Well don't fret about it. It will come in its due time. Didn't think I had these things when I was fifteen, did you?"

Once more, she dipped the cloth into the water and then proceeded to wiping the girl's legs. This time, she made no protest. Sakura felt an odd link with this persistent nurse and she felt her embarrassment slowly melt away. She looked at her curiously, like a rabbit would when it meets a child for the first time. And she knew that they would get along quite well, she and this nurse who tended to her like she was her child. All at once she felt the old nostalgia come back to her. It surprised her a bit. It had been so long since she last felt such a longing for her mother's embrace. And this was exactly what it felt like, a mother cleaning her child. How sweet it was while it lasted and she thought for a moment that it was her mother's beautiful face, which smiled at her lovingly, but the image faded and she saw that it was the nurse' instead. But she didn't mind it. It seemed as though time had slowed down as the woman gently wiped at her sweat-drenched body, but then all too soon she was done. She helped Sakura into a new gown and then tucked her in.

As she took the dirty pile from the floor and placed it into the basket at the bathroom, Sakura studied her intently. She was probably in her late twenties, she thought, She had short black hair, cut just below her ears, which flaunted her long delicate neck. She was slender in build and Sakura guessed that running around such a busy hospital helped keep her in shape. When she turned back towards the bed, Sakura saw that she had pretty brown eyes, lighter than his in color though. She shook her head. She did not want to think about him just yet, his lifeless stare was still fresh in her memory and it would only sicken her to recall. Instead, she focused her gaze on the woman who was now busying herself with cleaning up the mess the doctors had made. She was humming to herself a little song and she seemed quite cheery for the time of night.

"Don't you get tired?" Sakura finally blurted out. The nurse looked up at her surprised then quickly, the serene smile came back.

"Of what in particular?" she asked.

Sakura shrugged. She hadn't meant to say anything at all and so she had put no thought in her question. She merely wanted to blurt something out to distract her from her thoughts. "I don't know. Of taking care of so many helpless people, I guess. Of being a mother to so many people."

"No, not at all." She answered with such sureness that it astonished Sakura. "I like taking care of people. It makes me feel as though I'm worth something, and besides, I've always wanted to be a nurse ever since I was young. I'm glad I got my dream."

"Good for you." Sakura could hardly say anything else. The woman had been so sure of herself and she was sincere to the bone. She loved her work, Sakura could tell, and could see that it truly gave her happiness to help others. Sakura wished she had that kind of conviction. Not too long ago, she did, but it had all withered away with him. She wished once more to regain her childhood innocence and stubbornness.

"Would you tell me what you dreamt? It must have been awfully dreadful for you to have screamed like that. By the gods, we heard your shouts from the other wing and it woke up a good number of our near deaf patients! We all thought a catastrophe had struck, like an earthquake or a fire! I almost had a heart attack!" There was a slight mocking tone to her voice, but it was more of sarcasm than accusation. Sakura blushed and looked down at her hands yet she held her silence. How could she tell this complete stranger about her dreams when even her father didn't know, and surely she was closer to him than she was to her? True, she liked this woman, but not enough to tell her everything lest she thinks of her as crazy and leave. No, she didn't want that but she didn't want to lie as well. She felt somewhat bad at the thought of lying to her new acquaintance.

At last she spoke. "A nightmare. I don't remember what it was about, only that it had scared the hell out of me."

"And a whole lot of people as well," the nurse quickly added, her eyes dancing with mischief. "Like I said before, you woke up nearly the entire hospital, even the really sound sleepers and mind you, that's quite hard to do!" she said with a chuckle as she sat down once more on the chair beside her patient's bed. "Yup! I've never heard anything the likes of it. It sounded painful in itself! You had a lot of people worried, you know."

Again Sakura looked down. She hadn't meant to cause a ruckus. Indeed, if she had known how to stifle her screams, she would have done it. But none the wiser, she didn't know how. She mentally kicked herself for causing such a commotion. She swore she'd never shout again, if she were given the authority upon it!

"Was it really that bad? I didn't hear myself at all until I woke up and heard the echoes in my room. But I didn't think it was that loud." Sakura was almost mumbling to herself, so embarrassed was she to have panicked everyone with her screams. She heard a small snicker. She saw that her nurse hid a smile under her hand and she didn't know whether to feel relieved or hurt.

"Well, no use worrying about it. What's done is done." She stood up and patted at the creases of her white skirt. She placed the chair back to its rightful position, under the table, and slowly crossed the room towards the door. She flicked the switch and all at once, the room became dark, though the light, which spilled forth from the hallway through the open door illuminated her sole figure. "Goodnight." She said with a smile and then quickly said a few more words before closing the door. "It's fine if you don't want to tell me now, but you'll be here for a while on account of your injuries, and when you feel ready, you can tell me then. I'm not the sort to give up on a good secret quite easily." She had winked once more when she was done.

*********

The days flew by like minutes. She had hoped the pain would as well, but it remained as though her constant companion. Every night she would get those blood dreams, as she now called them in thought and with each night they became more vivid, more lifelike, and more real to her. Her senses ran wild in her dreams, and everything she felt, tasted, smelled, and saw, was blood, and all she could hear was that deafening requiem ringing in her ears. She dreaded sleep above all the painful needles and the tiresome tests, which occupied most of her day. She knew no true rest at night and even when she dozed off during the afternoons, the dreams would haunt her. Yet she never grew accustomed to them though she had seen them countless times. Instead, she became more and more terrified of them, scared that she could no longer pull out of it the next time, or the time after that. It seemed with time that whatever caused her to have these dreams became more powerful. She was soon tiring herself out and the dreams began taking their toll.

She had been in the hospital for a two whole weeks now and she grew worse with each passing day. The doctors were baffled. She should've been better by now. Her injuries have healed remarkably and soon hardly any trace of the attack was left on her body, yet her health deteriorated at an alarming rate. She felt she was dying and it sickened her. She didn't want to die a sick man's death.

The nurse was with her every moment of the day. She took it upon herself to dress the little girl, to wash her clammy skin, to comb her tousled hair, and to bring her company whenever she could spare the time. Her eyes were full of worry whenever she looked at Sakura who was now as thin as a scarecrow. Her cheekbones were jutting out, and her wrists were as small as a stick, yet no scar or blemish could be seen on her pale skin. She worried for this child as she might worry for her own and she wished with all her heart that Sakura might survive. She was too young to loose her hold on life.

When she had reached her worst, only the nurse stayed with her as they waited for her father. The other doctors and nurses felt they couldn't stay. Sakura was having a hard time breathing, her chest heaving as though it required such a great effort. Beads of sweat trickled down her forehead, then unto her cheeks and neck. She was cold as ice to the touch.

The nurse wiped at her furiously. Her hands were shaking as well. When Sakura opened her eyes, she saw that the woman was crying.

"What's wrong?" her words were soft and meek, her voice had lost all its tenacity.

The woman looked at her. She couldn't stop. Her eyes were streaming with tears and it occurred to Sakura that hers were as well. She thought of her mother. Could my mother have cried like this if I had died before her? These were tears of a mother for her child, she thought, and she suddenly felt something worth holding onto in this life. She wanted at least to feel a mother's touch though she was not her own, just the care of a mother for her child like she has never felt before.

"Don't worry about it. I'm not going to die." Sakura strained herself to sit up but found her arms to weak to support her. The nurse placed her hands on her shoulders, telling her to lie down.

She smiled besides her tears. "I know. And I'll do everything to help. Don't leave your father. He needs you. I don't ever want to see another parent loose their child. It's painful beyond all words."

A long silence passed by, then Sakura spoke.

"You lost yours, didn't you?" she asked, her voice even softer and unsure than before. Sakura felt all the more drawn to this woman's sorrow, as though it were the common bond that had made them so close. "You lost a child, didn't you, Nami? That's why you take care of people so much! You weren't able to save your child!"

Nami bit her lips as more tears flooded her eyes. She nodded as if to say, "Yes, I did", and, "It was all my fault." But Sakura shook her head and smiled at her warmly. It was no accusation, merely an awareness, which she wanted to confirm.

Nami's voice quaked but resolution glowed in her misty eyes. For some reason, she wanted to tell this child her story, if only it would give her the will to live.

"I was a foolish little girl like my mother said. I played around. I didn't know what I was getting into until it was too late. A college boyfriend raped me and I bore his child but I didn't hate it. I hated the father but this was my child, I wanted to keep it! A little boy, he was all I had to call my own. My mother disowned me when I told her I would keep the child and she threw me out of the house without a single cent. This child was all I had left that kept me living. I had to survive if only to see him live a better life than I did. And he was such a beautiful child, with auburn hair like his father's and amber eyes like mine. But he was sickly, three months premature and the doctors said he wouldn't survive the cold for very long. He was only two when he died. He hadn't even learned to speak!" She paused. She was choking on her tears. "Do you know how painful it is for a mother to lose her child, for me to lose everything that's worth living for? I don't want to see that kind of pain again. Not in anyone at all. That's why I do this. Because I don't want to see people lose those they hold dear. I don't want to see them cry like I did when I lost my child." She placed the heels of her palms unto her eyes as she struggled to stop her tears.

Sakura moved her hand towards Nami's and Nami took it into her own. She held it tightly as though she would never let go. Just as long as she kept awake, she thought, she would hold on to her hand. Just keep awake, was all that repeated in her mind.

"What was his name?" Sakura asked. She smiled serenely now, as though she was at peace.

"Shinta, after my father."

"He sounds as though he was very handsome. You were very lucky. I'm sure he's looking down at us from heaven, with my mom." She was surprised at herself. She had long forgotten about heaven. She had given up hope that her mother took care of her from there and here she was, preaching her old notions and fairytales about it. How very ironic it all was. She grinned as though she mocked herself.

There was a sound of regret in Nami's voice as she spoke. "I'm sorry, I didn't know. I didn't mean to make you remember."

Sakura laughed, though it was soft and somewhat pitiful. "Don't mind it. After all, I did it to you too and besides, I was very young when she died. I hardly remember her at all." She kept the smile on her face to reassure her friend.

"I'm glad." Nami smiled as well. And soon after they were both giggling then laughing. It just seemed the right thing to do at the moment and they both felt lighthearted, as though a heavy burden had been lifted from their shoulders as they each told their secrets. Others came in, surprised at the sudden uplift in their spirits. It seemed that everything was fine now and they all felt as though a sudden miracle had been made. Sakura now had more color in her cheeks and her eyes had more life. They ran their tests once more, and indeed the results showed that she had improved. But her condition remained critical, even after the slight improvement. They were not out of the woods yet, as the doctors would say. And when it seemed that the miracle could do no more, they left her in peace with Nami.

"You're going to make it," Nami said reassuringly. "I believe in you. It's all in the mind. See," she lifted up Sakura's arms and pointed out the places where her bruises had been. They were almost gone now, invisible unless you stared. "You're healing at a remarkable rate. We've never seen the likes of it. When you first got here we thought you'd die the very next day, but you proved us wrong. You have the strength in you and all you have to do is use it. Find the will to live. You have magic in your veins!"

Sakura was dumbfounded by what she had said. Magic in your veins. How could she have known? "I don't know what you're talking about!" she quickly stammered. "I don't believe in magic."

Nami looked at her, and there was pain in her eyes. She shook her head and tears flew from her face. "No, you're wrong! I believe in magic and I believe there is some magic in you! I believe you have a strong will to live and you have courage in your heart. I believe because you gave me happiness again when I thought I had nothing left. You made me feel wanted, needed; you gave me something worth living for! And if that if that isn't magic, I don't know what in the world is! Don't you see? You have magic in your heart," she placed her hand above Sakura's heart and more tears flowed. "Because you are dear to so many people! And no matter how much you feel that it is breaking, it's still strong and precious. It's what keeps you alive!"

Sakura fell silent. How could such a woman believe in magic so much when she herself has suffered the harsh reality of life? How could she believe in her when she herself no longer believed in herself? But she felt in her heart that it was all a lie. Somewhere in her soul, she still believed in the magic was that flowed through her veins. She had forgotten about it. She hated herself for that. How he would laugh if he heard her say this. She who was as stubborn about magic as this woman was. The Card Mistress, not believing in magic. He would think it was a pitiful joke and so would she. She realized that she had been living a lie all these years.

"I used to believe it." That was all she could say but when she saw the hurt in Nami's gaze she quickly added, "But maybe.. I can believe again." That was enough. She saw gratefulness in Nami's amber eyes. She nodded as she took both Sakura's hands in her own and pressed it to her cheek. How endearing this gesture was, as though they were truly mother and daughter reunited. And she smiled as she did this; Nami thought she had found her child again.

Hurried footsteps on the hall, her father had come. The door quickly opened and he came in, shaking and gasping for breath. "He had run", she thought, "just to see me." His light brown hair stuck to his forehead and his red face trickled with sweat, yet it lost all its color when his eyes fell upon the pitiful sight of his daughter. They filled with tears as he slowly stepped towards his child. He could not believe it. How could she have taken such a turn for the worse? The doctors had said she would be fine and yet here she was, bedridden and dying. She was pale, and only her emerald eyes gave any sign of life. Just like her mother, beautiful even as she travels towards death's door. He knelt down beside her and the nurse respectfully moved out of the way.

"So how are you doing?" He was choking down sobs as he spoke. He struggled to keep a courageous face for his daughter. He would be strong for her.

Sakura smiled, like the smile she had given Nami just a while back, reassuring and hopeful. She saw the light dance in his eyes. She knew he had understood. "I won't die." She repeated her words. And she grinned even more. She tapped her head playfully with two of her fingers and drew in a breath before she spoke. "It's all in the mind." She grinned and Nami smiled back for she knew that that little line had come from her very lips.

Her father nodded and though streams of tears flowed down his gaunt cheeks, they were now more of hope than sorrow. He recalled again how like her mother his daughter was. How they had the same fire in their emerald eyes, and how they had a kind of glow that never faded, even unto their worst health. They carried life with them to the last breath and yet he saw that this was not his daughter's time. She saw determination in her eyes. The will to live was stronger in her than it was in her mother. She would survive somehow; she would make a miracle for them all. And he smiled a handsome smile for all his optimistic thoughts and this gave more courage to Sakura. She heard Nami's words once more. Don't leave your father. I don't ever want to see another parent loose their child. It's painful beyond all words! She had resolved to live. She did not want to make her father feel the pain that Nami did when she lost her child. She refused to be the cause of her father's tears. It's all in my mind.

"Where's brother?"

"I told him to stay home. You know how hysterical he gets when it comes to you. I told him I'd call if things turn for the worse, but I expect them to turn for the better." A serene smile played on his lips and again she thought that he seemed like a god. He looked into her eyes for affirmation and she had given him all that she could. He knelt down by her side, unmoving and still, tightly clasping her hands in his. He seemed a statue of white ivory then, so white was his face with worry though hardly any lines of age could be seen, and he looked all the more solemn in his pious position. Her heart cried for him.

He stayed with her through the night as she struggled even more to breathe. But the strength with which she held unto his hand reassured him of her will to survive and he held on even more tightly as though to say, "I know you will." Nami stayed behind them both, relishing the heartwarming scene. She saw herself as she had been in the final moments of Shinta's life. How his small fingers tightly curled unto hers and how he fought to breathe, his small chest expanding to their full capacity, then retracting once more only to show his bones obtruding through his skin. So small and frail was he that she feared to even touch him as she might only hurt him by accident. She struggled to fight back the tears as she recalled the awful sound of that small black box, that one flat tone extending unto forever, and that line that remained still, unheeding of all her cries and pleads. "Breathe! God, he's only a child! Just let him breathe!" She could still remember her screams as the doctors pushed her aside and as others pulled her from her child. She clung on to his little fingers. "You can't leave me!" She could feel the hot gush of tears that streamed down her face, and she could see the horrid pity in people's eyes as they looked at her and that small box which held her child. And at last, that feeling of utter hopelessness as she saw her child lowered unto the earth, and covered with dirt. It all felt so final and she felt the desolation within her soul.

She looked once more at these two pale figures, so similar to herself and her child. She wished with all her heart that the outcome would change. She would not lose another child, she thought to herself as she took a spare blanket from the cabinet. They had fallen asleep, these two, yet their hands remained intertwined. She looked at the man, handsome with hardly a fault in his face, except for a few lines of worry on his forehead and under his eyes. He seemed the man Shinta could have become were he given the chance to live, and this saddened her even more. She placed the blanket carefully over his shoulders and with her own lace handkerchief, wiped the dried tears off of his face. She smiled at him, as though she were smiling at her own son, though this man was older than herself. She slowly went towards the door, and with one last glance, she flicked the lights and closed the door, bidding the pair a good night's sleep.

*********

She heard a voice as she wailed in her bloody world. The blade fell from her hand. She stared at it as it glittered with the heaven's red light. It was as menacing as before but she no longer felt a part of its malice. She was merely aware of it and of its existence. She was not a killer.

She looked around. Surely she had heard someone's whisper! She had heard someone's words. You are not a killer! You must live! Who could it be? Her father? No, the voice was deeper, more soothing, and with so much power. It was familiar to her. She knew who it was yet she did not know his identity. But she felt hope rise in her as the voice grew stronger and she struggled to stand besides the pain of the shards beneath her feet. She took a step, then another, and another, her arms reaching out towards the voice. She wanted to hold it. She wanted to keep the peace that it brought her, the sanity, which she sought the most. Again, the pain came. The entire floor gleamed with the devilish shards and her feet were bloody. She fell down and she felt the icy blades tear through her flesh. She screamed in agony and once more the voice came, as though heeding her call. Find the will to live! You must live! How strong the voice was, and it gave her strength to bear the pain. And once more, she struggled to stand, though the blades dug deeper into the flesh of her feet. She felt cold, and almost withering, like she herself was nothing more than glass, about to break at the next fall. It was sheer determination that drove her, along with the voice. She had left a trail of bloody footprints behind her. Her feet had gone numb. "Just one more step," she told herself, "just one more step." She lied to keep her feet moving. Just one more step! Just one more! But the pain grew unbearable and once again, she fell, only to be received with even more blades of glass and ice. It ripped through her skin, and she saw that she was covered with her own blood. She cried in pain and she let herself lie beaten upon the floor for she had lost all her strength.

She placed her cheek upon the cold ground. She could see from the corner of her eye that it swam in a pool of her own blood, which gushed out through the heavy wounds on her face. She stared at it and once more, she felt the old helplessness come back and emptiness cover her whole. She heard the voice one more, urging her to move forward, to live! But even before it could give her strength, that horrid noise drowned it out. The requiem played in its full force, as though it fought the unknown voice for control over her. She wished with her entire being that the voice would prevail yet all she heard were the screams of countless restless souls and the laughter of their murderer. It was the requiem she heard, which rang in her ears and she buried her bloody face in her hands and cried. And all at once, the terrible noise stopped.

She felt a being over her yet she was scared to look up. She felt warm hands on her arms as it helped her rise. She sat up, as she stared at this being. She realized it was covered with light, blinding white light, and she squinted her eyes at its intensity. The being was warm, as it knelt down beside her and cupped her face in its hands. It smiled; at least she thought it did, for the being had no face with which to smile. It was merely beautiful beyond all words. It wiped her tear-stained cheeks and dusted of the dried blood, and it brought her closer to itself. All at once, she felt warmth surge through every fiber of her being, she felt herself enclosed in a safe place. It held her in its arms, and she rested her face upon its chest and she felt life within her, as she never had before. She was alive!

She slowly opened her eyes. She felt better, though her mind was clouded, and her vision misty. Her breathing was easier, as though the weight had been lifted from her chest. Just in my mind. She new she would live, as she had promised Nami and her father. Someone had helped her; she knew it for the being that cradled her just moments ago was completely alien to her mind. She savored the warm tingling feeling in her cheeks where the being held her and she wondered who it was. She remembered the feeling of familiarity though the answer eluded her whenever she tried to grasp it. Were the dreams gone forever? No. She felt her mind answer as soon as she had asked. She knew they would come back but tonight was her night of peace and she wished to relish it. How awful it felt to have survived it only to be brought back to it the following night, but she was now too weak to even care. She was falling into the first sweet slumber she had had in years. She fell asleep, a grateful smile upon her lips.