Notes: Editing completed on 05/06/07.
Chapter Three: Fly Me to the Moon - Part One
It's been three days since I saw Riku, since I last saw him in the showers. And in that three day span, I can't help but think about him constantly. I am pretty ashamed about the midnight bathroom event that happened the same night. I shouldn't have let my emotions go that far. I could have gotten caught so easily. I should be more careful and not let such a thing effect me. But it isn't easy.
Also I haven't seen or heard of him and I'm surprised no one said anything about someone seeing a Squad A person walk right out of the bathroom. No one saw him. It's impossible for someone not to be spotted, they would have had to pass the guards that block us off from the rest of the two other squads. I don't feel like thinking about this anymore, so I will my mind to rest while I lay in my bed. I hope that I can at least get a small nap in before dinner. No way am I going back to the showers. I think it would look somewhat suspicious doing that for the past three days at the same time.
Then unexpectedly, an ear splitting scream echoes down the hall.
I fell as though my spleen was pulled out from within me as a sharp cry continues. Immediately, I jump up from my bed and it seems I make it to my doorway in one long leap. My hands painfully grip the frame as I stick my head out, frantically looking from side to side.
A blur of people rush by me while muffled screams continue to erupt from down the hall. More and more desperate sounding, more and more pain put into it with each shrill cry, almost sounding as if someone, was…dying.
I walk out of my room carefully, trying not to cause too much commotion with my frantic walking and worried look. Of course, I'm surrounded by a sea of others as they share the same gait and expression.
You can only be too careful though.
I suddenly spot a small figure in the corner, face in hands and bodying shaking with sobs. Brown hair cascades around her tiny head. Selphie cries in the corner.
"Selphie!" I run towards her loosely, anxiety racking through my body.
People start to push their way to the end of the hall just opposite and I have to almost beat my way through the wave of my fellow squad-mates.
Finally, as though it seems to take an eternity, I reach her quivering form.
"Selphie." I ask, placing a hand on her shoulder. She flinches and begins to cry harder.
"Selphie… what's wrong?" I ask firmly but gentle. Is it just me or has the hall gotten quieter?
I start to get impatient as the hall begins to silence and a new wave of murmurs fill the air. This isn't good. I shake her a little. Sometimes, she can get a little too carried away. I only hope this time that she is really over reacting.
"Selp—" I'm cut off by her meek little hands covering my mouth. She slowly picks her head up and looks at me straight in the eyes. It must be taking a lot of strength to do this because she is still shivering tremendously.
Her watery eyes look hurt and pain fills them as I gaze into them, trying to pick out what the hell is making all this commotion. At last, she speaks.
"Sora," she begins, her voice quivering, "M…Ma- Maz… died, they killed him." And with that, she collapsed to the stained colored carpet, once again in tears. I slowly back away, aware of everyone's stare. All eyes are upon me.
Without thinking, I take off down the hall, passing by my one friend Garnett, and a bright flash of orange as Wakka goes towards the crying Selphie. People start to clear away while I run my way down to Marey's room. Soon a whole aisle is made as bystanders begin to close in behind.
I halt to Marey's door and try and catch my breath from the short sprint. The crying has stopped a while ago, but it couldn't have been worse than what I'm looking at right now.
As I pear through the doorway, hair plastered with sweat, I see Marey, face in pillow and body shaking. Her small hands clenched in fists around the beige cotton sheets, that she tries to squeeze the life from. My first reaction is to go over and comfort her distressed self and also cry with her. But I hold back, regaining my composure and step forward cautiously.
She heaves in another breathe her small frame shivering. Marey inches her hands away from her and tries to sit up. Her blue hair falls around her face as she begins to rise up from the bed. It takes her a lot of energy and she almost falls back onto it.
Finally, she is up and silently swings her feet over the bed, never lifting up her head during this task. My first thought is that she is going to come over to me and I'll hug her, drying away her tears. That way, she won't feel alone anymore, she'll have a shoulder to cry on, a friend to hold.
People begin to gasp while she slowly makes her way over to me, shuffling her small feet and never picking up her head. It's an unsettling site and I only hope for the best that she is alright and she can handle this loss. The crowd that seemed to form is growing, crowding the doorway, peering in as if this was the show and they await the final. It's uncomfortable having all these people watch such a personal display. It feels wrong.
Marey stands in front of me, hands at her side, quaking with emotions. I can almost feel this negative presence that she is giving off. It scares me really.
I casually yet carefully, reach a hand to her, an unsteady hand. I see my fingers hesitate before they softly land on her shoulder.
It's so cold… she's so cold.
"Sora…" she whispers so quietly, it's almost a breathe.
I smile weakly and lightly rub her shoulder to at least try and warm the area, truthfully, it makes me more worried about the fact of why she feels so dead. Why does she actually feel dead?
"It's okay Marey," I begin, smiling down. "I'll be here for you." And it's the truth. I'll always be here for someone in need.
I can almost begin to feel her nerves loosen up. But then Marey begins to back away, shrugging off my contact.
What?
Then, without any notice, an audible slap echoes throughout the room, eliciting gasps from the audience.
I bring my hand up quickly to my cheek, feeling that sickening warmth radiate from it accompanied by the harsh throb. I must have this all wrong…
"Don't… touch me." Marey spits out.
I to sway backwards, more out of shock than pain. It doesn't make sense as to why she… why she just did that. I don't understand. Why would she be angry with me?
"Get out of my sight." She spits again, this time with more force. Everyone is holding their breathe, in hope that I do something, that I can sort out something. They look up to me, I can't let them down. But, they are as confused as I am. Here I am, the one who everyone looks up to and I'm hopeless.
Finally, Marey picks her head up slowly. Now I understand why she didn't before.
She looks like a nightmare.
Her naturally bright eyes are emotionless as humanly possible. Actually, she doesn't even look human. It's like every single spark that made her shine was sucked out of her and her corpse was the only thing left to stay. Her skin is taught, pulling at her face making it look almost painfully tight and her color drained, leaving a pasty tone.
But more importantly, her eyes were what haunt me the most, those black voided eyes that seem to just lead down forever and ever into a bottom less pit of nothing. It scares me to even look but something pulled me into stare at them.
It was disturbing.
I couldn't help but gasp at what I saw. Marey's eyes were so… torn. Yes, now I believe eyes are the windows to your soul. It was such a cliché saying but now I can relate to it. Her soul is ripped and torn to pieces, falling forever down and down to hell.
And I was the cause.
I could have saved Maz. I should have done something. It's just so beautiful to see a sibling love. To see how the were able to find each other in hell. How both Maz and Marey found one another through this mess, I'll never know…
Before I realize what I'm doing, a wave of panic drowns my body, submerging my soul to the core. I run out of the room frantically brushing away from people as they move away quickly, gasping at the show that has ended. The sound of my feet echo against the wall, the sound of bare flesh slapping against the concrete. I am running barefoot down the halls filled with people, twisting their heads as I run past them, not giving a damn anymore. All I know is that I need to get out of here. Fast.
To know that I'm the hero here, how people depend on me and I couldn't save someone this time. Let alone someone that meant so much to me and another. I'm such a failure.
My feet smack hard against the ground and I can feel the slight sting to them, I make them move faster. My bare feet burn and a numbness starts to tinge them from how hard I'm pushing myself, rapidly away from this scene. Soon, I realize that I'm letting my body take control, guiding me towards this hall, that particular hall.
The one hall to my freedom.
I take a sharp left, closer and closer to where I really want to be. A place like no other. I can go there… to help me forget, maybe even cheer me up? Forget just momentarily about what just happened.
Less and less people begin to turn their heads as I run like light down the long empty corridor. Soon there is no one and I follow my instinct, let my feet, my soul, take me to that destination.
The feeling of guilt, pain, anger and anguish begins to crack the barriers I put up to keep my image. Those barriers that had been built over time to block out any emotion that I could ever let loose. Any emotion that could let me lose my control.
I can't seem to figure out how long I ran, I just knew I was there. Here.
The surroundings were cracked, chipped and caked with years of dust and other filth. A place you wouldn't necessarily want to be. The long hall began to grow darker, eerier, quieter… wrong.
The thing about this place is that it's the entrance to hell. The place you wouldn't expect to find people dancing about. The only light that ever illuminates the place is that eternal red glow coming from the end of the hall.
Doorway after doorway of nothing but rooms filled with dust and debris, people fled these parts of Xavian. Not many people could even stand a day in the rooms so close to hell.
But I do, I could. I can.
I run towards the end of the hall, nearing my objective. I zoom down the blend of concrete and wooden stairs that travel so far down. And jump the last few, landing hard on floor, cracking hard objects beneath me.
Bones.
I'm surprised I can last this long without stopping, but that familiar pull at my navel reminds me that I'm so close. I follow that pull, that beautiful pain that aches in the very core of my very being, urging me to respond.
No one comes down here for more than the reason than just the uneasy terrifying feeling of being around this area. It's the fact that down in this basement cavern is the huge vaulted steel iron door that leads into the furnace room. A place where things needing to be destroyed, erased, go to be burned, a giant crematory… a place for dead bodies to be discarded. A foul smell of death fills this large industrial district that can make anyone want to hurl. But you get used to it after a while.
And I know that Maz was last in this place.
Feet hitting the cold ground, I sprint towards the local busted boxes in the far right trying to forget that last depressing thought and dip behind them into the small narrow alley. I haven't been here in such a long time that I have to bat away the cobwebs and clouds of dirt that I stir up. My pace slows down while my heart hysterically pounds against my chest, banging on and on almost trying to get out of it's cage.
As I crouch down and begin to crawl through the long tunnel, a sewage like drain, I feel my eyes give and the small flow of tears break loose. The feel of water against my face reminds me of how weak I am. How strong I should be and how much it hurts. My palms begin to slip against the floor as the cold stone turns into a mushy, slimy mysterious substance encrusting my hands and knees. Water flows lightly through the tunnel, winding down the path towards the end. I'm so close towards where it empties. And finally when I look up towards the end, I see it; the smallest light radiating from the end of the tunnel, the light that I will always go to.
Some people always say, "Don't go to the light at the end of the tunnel."
I do.
And I never will give it up.
I'll forever crawl towards that warmth, to that hope that shines so lovingly, touching my skin, caressing my soul to the very center. It's what makes me still fight. Fight for freedom. It's my "what's worth fighting for."
Beyond that wired barricade I can see outside.
Through a small opening I can see the moon, the gorgeous white moon, glowing down at me, bathing my body in its beautiful comfort, it reflects off my necklace and lights the rest of the tunnel. As I look up I can see the stars. The stars that forever wink and twinkle at me, playing in the night's sky. I feel my emotions suddenly break and I cry. I cry so hard about how this stupid obstruction can strain everything outside but it can't let me pass. I can't break this damn barricade down as it's like melded to the end of this tunnel that could lead me to my freedom.
I stick my shaky hand through the small hole that can only fit my skinny arm and reach for the sky, the wires cutting my flesh, ripping my pale skin. The feel of warm blood trickles down my arm onto my shirt, staining it a dark crimson. More than anything right now I want to reach that moon. I want the moon so bad. I want to dance under the stars so much. To be underneath the sky and twirl around, sand beneath my feet and the sound of waves in the back round.
But all I hear now is the sound of water streaming down this channel, and my repulsive sobs. My sobs over how much I hate myself and how much I can't be strong. I'm losing my façade, my control ever since…
Right before I saw him again. Riku…
Riku, how his deep emerald eyes carry that serious gaze, how his hair never turns a shade darker nor a shade lighter, always the same rare tone. Sure there are some people in Xavian that have the grayish silver hair but nothing can ever be like the beautiful silver that Riku possesses. Nothing can be as silky or fine as his hair. It's the tenderness and compassion that he has, there isn't anything else in the world that could match his beauty both in appearance and character. He isn't even comparable to anyone. A rank of his own. Even now, he must still be the same. No one ever loses who they are.
Just reflecting back on Riku has made this situation all the worse, my heart feels like it is struggling to beat, to stay alive. More than anything I rather just rot away faster than I already am. I can't stand this place. There is too much pain everywhere I go. Every turn I make I run into another agonizing memory about what was before.
I hate myself and I hate this place. But more than anything…in the end; I hate love.
One last time I look up at the sky, straining my sight to see more, than just the moon and stars, some more shapes. I don't even know what I'm looking for half the time. But I see nothing else in this pitch black sky.
Oh, how I want to see more.
Why is it always about wanting? I seem to have more desires than I can deal with. My life is full of imagination, always dreaming of things that can never happen, that never seem to want to happen. It's so frustrating about just how much I seem to feel sorry for myself. Am I that selfish?!
Riku…
I am so confused. I slam my fist against the cold tunnel wall, feeling the sharp throb of a bone cracking.
"WHY DO YOU HATE ME SO MUCH?!" I scream out to whatever beings just love making me squirm, making my life hell…
And as if my question was answered, I suddenly hear a small wisp of wind come from outside the tunnel, back from where I entered. A small whisper, a sweet sound catches my attention and I find myself looking towards it. My recent thoughts begin to fade… this sudden sound attracting my fullest attention and thought. My body scurries back to the way into the channel, water splashing as I frantically crawl to that sweet noise.
Just when I reach the opening, a soft colorless light flashes before my eyes and dissipates. I have to shield my face and I squint to see what was the cause.
Suddenly, I see something that almost made me cry and scream aloud.
A long white form stands in front of the oven door, its body letting off a delicate aura. A long slender body shaped so beautifully and intricate stands with its back towards me, not letting me see what's on the other side. It seems so…
Strange.
What is it?
Suddenly, I hear the same sound as before begin to pick up volume, now I realize it's some sort of hum, a gentle tune that sounds ghostly yet, surprisingly comforting.
All of a sudden, I realize I'm inching towards the noise more intrigued, so close. Slowly I make my way, intrigued by the situation. What are you? Should I feel scared by a mysterious white creature standing near the oven? Yeah. But I'm not. I don't know why. This thing…
It's so… it seems so…
Just as I'm about there, the form begins to turn around.
I am about to see the face, what's on the other side with anticipation gripping my chest tightly, I am about to see this beautiful but strange thing. This thing that suddenly changed my thoughts and I felt that I had an objective to touch it. To go near it. So close, I'm peeking around the corner of the alley. I can see the long locks of pale hair that float in the air, the glorious luminosity that surrounds the figure giving it an almost, angelic look.
Then suddenly, it disappears right before my eyes.