Kisame
In the past I had questioned my sanity many, many times. This time I know I'm crazy. Why else would I think I see some supposed to be dead chick in my house? I must be suffering from PTSD or something. Or maybe it's like a ghost of Christmas past sort of deal. But we're in the middle of March.
While I was busy with my mental meltdown the freaking brat was sitting there, on MY bed, looking to all the world as if she was the one supposed to be here and I was intruder.
Maybe this is another one of my dreams, or maybe she's just a hallucination. At this point I honestly don't care.
Sakura?
The not-real girl looks up and our eyes instantly connect. Her eyes are still a vibrant green, but for some reason they look...different. I forget what I had wanted to say, but with her piercing gaze I doubt I would have been able to even mutter a word. We stared at each other for what felt like ages.
I looked away first.
Out of the corner of my eye I see her grin and turn her attention back to the stuffed shark I keep on my nightstand. I still remember the day she gave me that.
I should say something, but what? I'm sorry would be a pretty good place to start. Although I'm not sure what saying sorry to a hallucination will do. Relive me of some guilt I suppose. But what reason do I have to be guilty? I haven't done anything wrong.
We weren't even really friends, we just hung out a lot and you don't have to be pals with someone to do that. And so what if she was always worried about me, possibly the only person in the world who cared if I lived or died? She was the only one I could go to when I felt like burning the world. Of course I would find her napping somewhere, and as soon as I got within 3 feet her eyes would burst wide open. Then she'd sit up, give me a bright smile, and ask about my day. Even though I had searched for her specifically because it was horrible, I still told her it was fine, and talk about all the good things that had happened. We would talk until she started dozing, only ending our time together when I woke her up and demanding she go home and sleep.
I'm brought out of my pointless memories by a soft 'Thump'. Fake Sakura had thrown herself back onto the bed, now laying down on my small bed. She flashes me another grin before rolling over to the far side of the bed and patting the now empty space she had previously occupied.
Hesitantly I walk over and sit on the edge. With a few more encouraging looks from fake-her I take off my blood stained sneakers and lay down next to her like she wanted, completely ignoring the rest of the dark liquid on my body. My sheets are red anyway, so no one will notice.
I don't want to remember, but I don't think I'll ever be able to forget.
I didn't mean to do it.
She silently leans over and pats my arm.
Sakura?
She raises her perfect eyebrows in question, urging me to go on.
Do you think I'm going to hell?
She gives me a look I can't explain before she pulls me into a tight embrace, covering me with warmth and the sell of green tea. I want to stay like this with her forever. I can feel my body growing heavier and heavier, but there's just on more question I have to ask before I fall asleep.
Will you still be here when I wake up?
She hums, the first noise she's made since I entered my house to find someone had broken in.
Maybe
She wasn't.