Chapter 5: Holding On
After entering making a few wrong turns and walking past the inn a couple of times, I finally got to my destination. The inn had a much more comfortable atmosphere than outside in the polluted air, and for that, I was grateful. I had just walked over the threshold when I heard the innkeeper, Uma Madrena, I believe, call out to me.
"Hey, you there!" She yelled out. I stopped walking and I heard the patter of the woman's steps approaching.
"Just what do you think you're doing with her?" the innkeeper asked in a raised voice. She looked angry for some reason.
"I'm bringing her to a bed where she can rest." I simply said before recommencing my stride. I had no time to answer her questions and my arms were getting tired from carrying Tifa.
"Oh, no you don't! Put her down this instant!" She said. I was becoming irritated. My arms were really starting to ache, my mind was fuzzy, and I was tired.
"And where do you want me to put her down? The floor?" I asked in an annoyed manner. I needed to rub my temples, but doing so would mean just dropping Tifa. I didn't know what possessed me to even bring her from the bar and I certainly didn't know why I didn't just drop her on the floor.
My question seemed to baffle the short woman. She closed her mouth and looked around the lobby. Couches, for whatever reason, were non-existent here and the benches were recently repainted, so they were also out of the question. I raised my eyebrow at her while she tapped her chin in thought.
"Look, Miss, just come with me if you're so determined for this girl's well-being." I muttered before continuing to the elevators. I was in no mood to argue with her.
She did follow me and we were standing in the elevator in an awkward silence. I was slumping on the wall, getting increasingly tired. If the alcohol hadn't deranged my mind so much, then maybe I could've remembered how long it was since I picked Tifa up in my arms. I could have sworn that the elevator was being slow on purpose because the second floor wasn't getting any nearer. The pain in my arms was beginning to make me really consider dropping Tifa right then and there, but we finally did arrive on the second floor.
I hurried as quickly as I could in my half-drunken state to my hotel door and tried to get the card key from my shirt pocket while still supporting Tifa's body. As I lay Tifa's head on my shoulder as I lifted my left hand to my shirt pocket, I caught a whiff of her perfume. It smelt intoxicating and it was becoming increasingly harder to get the key. That damned lady seemed to be enjoying my struggle because she had no intentions of helping me retrieve the only way of entering the room without damaging the door or its hinges in any way.
Finally, after much frustration, I got the cursed card key and pushed it into the slot. The tiny machine didn't respond for a few seconds before flashing green a few times. The quiet 'click' of the lock was heard and then I was able to open the door.
My hotel room was tidy and held no evidence of my little profession. Everything looked relatively innocent, but Uma was only concerned about Tifa at the moment and everything about me was bad in her eyes, at the moment. I couldn't blame her, though. I did walk in with her in my arms, her head hanging carelessly from her neck, and from what I could tell, even when inebriated, this innkeeper was no stranger to Tifa and seemed to hold great caring for her.
I set Tifa down in a comfortable position on the forest green bed and attempted to get the covers around her. The feat was no easy task, but it got accomplished anyway. Afterwards, I went to the kitchen and got myself a glass of water. I massaged the side of my head as I sat in a chair and sipped the clear liquid. Uma was standing next to Tifa, watching her with a motherly look, but with a great deal of sadness. Then she looked at me with an accusatory glare.
"What happened to her?" She asked me as she pulled a chair out to sit. She held her stare on me and I just looked at her with the most intimidating look I could muster.
"Why must you know?" I simply replied. She scowled and her hazel eyes narrowed at me.
"You're probably a no good, rotten man who takes advantage of young, misguided women and I can't just let you do that to her." She explained while gesturing to Tifa.
"If that's true, then following me wasn't a good idea." I reprimanded before taking another sip of water. This caught her off guard and she looked frightened for a moment before regaining her composure.
"What did you do to her?" she asked again, obviously believing the worst. I noticed she was searching the room and calculating different methods of escape should her assumption be true. But I wanted her to leave, anyway and decided that being vague and mysterious wasn't getting me any closer to my goal.
"Look, I'm not some sick madman." I told her, although it wasn't too far from the truth. I was a killer, close enough to be a madman. "Miss Lockheart just had too many drinks at the bar and passed out. I did nothing but bring her here."
"How do you know her name?" she asked suspiciously. She was still searching. I was sure that she spotted the broom just a few feet away from her.
"Previous meeting." I said, not willing to talk any more than required.
"How long ago?" she inquired further. Gods, did this woman have to know every single fucking detail? I just wanted her to leave already.
"Two years. Now please leave. I'm tired." I told her.
"No. I'm not leaving you alone with Tifa." So she still didn't trust my words. Such skepticism...
"Then bring her to your room." I said.
"I would if I was strong enough and I'm certainly not leading you to mine or Tifa's room." She replied. For such a small woman, she was so damn persistent.
I sighed, gulped down the rest of my water and got up from my chair. This seemed to intimidate Uma somewhat and she looked ready to dash for anything useful to throw or hit with. I paid no more thought to that, though, and then headed for my suitcase. Only a few black dress shirts and jeans were in there, including the hygienic materials. I was planning to leave this morning, but now seemed like a good time to check out. The suit case was zipped and my coat and gloves were there, so I put the two garments on and picked up the bag. I checked around to see if I forgot anything and then returned to the kitchen.
"If you won't leave, then fine. I'm checking out." I informed her before heading to the bed to make sure nothing was forgotten there either.
I felt around the sheets for anything, but felt nothing. I hoped that Tifa wasn't lying atop any possessions, but I didn't recall seeing anything there. Nevertheless, forgotten possessions could be disastrous should the authorities somehow find out this room was occupied by an assassin, so I gently pushed Tifa out of the way. I heard Uma rise from her chair, ready to say something when Tifa's arm unexpectedly shot up. Her hand grasped my upper arm in iron grip and she rolled over, so she was facing me more directly.
"Please, don't go..." she rasped.
Her cheeks glistened with tears, but she still slept. She was either having nightmares or she was remembering something from her apparently painful past. Most likely the latter. I tried to tug myself away from her gently as to not wake her, but she wouldn't let go. I sighed and set my suitcase down.
"I won't." I whispered to her. This somewhat satisfied her and she released my arm, just to grasp a tiny bit of the material on my shirt, just in case.
The whole world around was blank. It was all just a void. A black mass of nothing. And I was standing in the middle of it. I felt so alone and I felt like crying. There wasn't anyone around to see me break down, but the tears wouldn't fall.
Suddenly, a white, glowing rectangle appeared. It looked like some sort of screen for a film and I stood there, transfixed by it. Then images started to play across the glowing surface. Images of my past. There were scenes of my first birthday, where my mother was still alive and we looked like a happy family. Then she was suddenly dead, lying in a coffin and my father was silently crying as they lowered her into the six feet deep pit.
More images flashed before my eyes and they all went in chronological order. None of my memories were happy. Only the first one and I was barely old enough to fully remember that time. I was crying as the images continued and soon they become more recent memories. I wanted to close my eyes or move my head away... just anything to stop seeing this, but my eyes couldn't leave the screen. I was forced to watch this. I had to relive Cloud's betrayal and the loss of my bar.
I wanted to scream for anyone to help me. I needed someone to stop this, but there was no one around. I just kept watching as the memories continued to play, as my tears continued to fall. Then a dark and mysterious-looking man appeared on the screen. I realized that this was the only memory that wasn't in the right place. We were conversing on a crowded train ride to Midgar. His name was Christopher Johnson, but I knew better than to believe that it was the truth. But I couldn't remember what I thought him to truly be named. The name was on the tip of my tongue, though.
"V... Vin... Vincent." I murmured into the air.
He was leaving now, though. He was walking further away from me, but I needed him to stay. I didn't know why, but I just needed Christopher, or Vincent, or whatever his name is, to be there. To simply be in my presence. I felt safe when I saw him on the screen, but then I realized that he was no longer an image of my memory on a movie screen, but an actual person in the black void I stood in.
I had to run. I had to catch up to him. So I sprinted off to him. I called out to him, but he paid me no attention and I wondered if he truly was there. I reached out, but he didn't seem to be any closer than before. But just when I was about to give up, my hand enclosed around his arm and I held on as tight as I could. He didn't turn around, but I knew he was paying attention to me.
"Please, don't go..." I whispered into his ear from behind him.
He didn't seem to notice that I had said anything to him. I was going to shed fresh tears and give up on him when he turned around and looked down to me.
"I won't." And then it all disappeared and I remembered no more.
AN: Yeah, this chapter was kind of weird. It totally didn't go with the plans I had for it, so it just goes to show that I can't just plan a story out and have it come out exactly as I thought it would. Oh well, this was much better (and shorter) than I had originally thought it would be, so yeah.
AN 2: I'm getting some hits, but only 5 out of the many, many hits have been reviews, so if you read this story, please review. I just want an opinion and now I don't care for flames. I'd just prefer that it be more constructive than an actual flame.