The twin suns rain down endless rays of liquid fire, burning my tender
skin, but still, I keep walking. Nightfall comes, opaque clouds cover the
sky, and flood the world with much needed darkness. Every day is the same.
I wake up, I eat, I sleep. and I remember her. Rem. The only woman I ever
loved, lost to the only brother I ever had. But. it is the way she wanted
it, right? Her last words were "take care of Knives." Take care of
Knives. I will Rem, I will.
Over a red sand dune, a small village appears. Not much seems to be there, one or two houses, a saloon, a well possibly. I make it to the town by daybreak. A few people stop to stare at my attire, and particularly, my face. A middle-aged man rips off a poster from the town billboard and runs inside the saloon, never to return. Most of the town's people did the same, except one little girl with flowing black hair. She seemed lost. Slowly, but surely I walked toward her. She turned around. She could not have been more than eight; her white blouse was stained with dirt, and her blue jeans torn. She reminded me of Rem. I asked her, her name, she told me it was Remember, but her friends called her Rem. Rem.
We talked for what seemed like hours, but it was only a few minuets. Her voice, her hair, even her eyes reminded me of Rem. The old man from earlier yelled some odd profanity and made ready his riffle. I didn't get to see him aim, but a shot rang out, everything fell silent. Pure, red blood ran down the front of Remember's shirt. She fell lifeless to the ground. A single glistening tear ran down my face. I took careful aim and shot the man and he fell back into the bar's double doors. Gently, I lifted Remember's head, praying to whatever god would listen that she was okay, she wasn't.
I carried he lifeless body to a point in the desert when I came across a single red flower. It was a geranium. I buried her below the flower and continued walking toward nowhere. Tears now flowing freely down my cheeks. Were you trying to tell me something Rem?
Over a red sand dune, a small village appears. Not much seems to be there, one or two houses, a saloon, a well possibly. I make it to the town by daybreak. A few people stop to stare at my attire, and particularly, my face. A middle-aged man rips off a poster from the town billboard and runs inside the saloon, never to return. Most of the town's people did the same, except one little girl with flowing black hair. She seemed lost. Slowly, but surely I walked toward her. She turned around. She could not have been more than eight; her white blouse was stained with dirt, and her blue jeans torn. She reminded me of Rem. I asked her, her name, she told me it was Remember, but her friends called her Rem. Rem.
We talked for what seemed like hours, but it was only a few minuets. Her voice, her hair, even her eyes reminded me of Rem. The old man from earlier yelled some odd profanity and made ready his riffle. I didn't get to see him aim, but a shot rang out, everything fell silent. Pure, red blood ran down the front of Remember's shirt. She fell lifeless to the ground. A single glistening tear ran down my face. I took careful aim and shot the man and he fell back into the bar's double doors. Gently, I lifted Remember's head, praying to whatever god would listen that she was okay, she wasn't.
I carried he lifeless body to a point in the desert when I came across a single red flower. It was a geranium. I buried her below the flower and continued walking toward nowhere. Tears now flowing freely down my cheeks. Were you trying to tell me something Rem?
