No, I am not dead. But here's chapter nine! One more to do!!!!!!!!!!

Chapter 9: The Past

The lunchroom. He was in the lunchroom.

What? Mark glanced around. What? Hadn't he just been in some weird place called Lyoko?

"Lyoko," He mumbled, trying the word. It sounded familiar on his tongue and as Mark recalled the landscape, he realized that he really had been there before, in his dreams. Mark looked down and realized that he was holding his lunch tray. His head shot up and he realized Jeremy was still sitting all by his lonesome.

If I'm right, Mark thought, his feet quickly carrying him over to where the blond boy sat. Then I should go over there and do what I did before.

"Hello!"

But to Mark's surprise, the boy didn't yell and fall over like the original time. Instead he simply looked up and smiled pleasantly. But wasn't he flaming mad and annoyed just moments ago?

Mark tried to keep his confusion off of his face as Jeremy spoke. "Hello. I don't believe we've met before; I'm Jeremy."

Mark sat down as he did before. "Mark," he told him. "That's a cool computer you got there! Nothing compared to some of the other stuff I've seen, though," he forced a chuckle. Mark had been thinking of the super-computer he'd seen moments before. The girl, Aelita, had said that the whiteness had been a return to the past. Had Jeremy forgotten about it, or did he remember like Mark did? Somehow, Mark betted on the latter.

"Really now? This is one of the best there is! My name is Jeremy." Jeremy patted his computer contently, a proud look in his eyes. Once more Mark thought of the supercomputer. He noticed Jeremy said 'on of the best'. He obviously had another computer in mind at the moment.

"Mark," He replied.

The black haired girl came up, trailed by the pink haired one. Yumi and Aelita, Mark reminded himself. Yumi was holding a book.

"Hey, Jeremy, do you get this one? Aelita can't help me." Mark noticed Aelita held a crumpled piece of paper in her hands, and as Jeremy began to help Yumi with her studying, Aelita's eyes flickered constantly to the paper. There was obviously something big, or important, worrying, sad, excited or new on that paper, and whatever the contents of it was, thoughts of it were eating Aelita's mind.

"Yo! Jeremy! We have a problem!" The shout came from across the lunch hall, and the two boys and two girls turned to see what was happening. Mark blinked when he saw the purple-clad boy and his cousin come bounding out of the crowd. All here, Mark though vaguely. All of them. When the new arrivals reached within an arm's length of the table, Mark decided to make an announcement.

"Jeremy, w—" Odd started to say, but Mark cut him off.

"I need to talk to all of you, real quick." He said. "Just outside." He cast his eyes over each person, making sure all of them got the message. The group, excluding Mark, shared nervous glances, then began to follow Mark outside.

Once they were outside, pretty much out of everyone's hearing range, Mark started to speak.

"Do you guys know of a place called Lyoko?"

Silence.

"It's a virtual world that I constantly visit in my dreams. I learned just a bit ago that it is, in fact, a real place. Now, do you guys know anymore details about this?"

"W-what are you talking about?" Odd asked nervously.

"Yea, why would we know about some sort of video game?" Ulrich added his two cents.

Mark frowned. "Please don't lie."

The group in front of him exchanged glances and no one spoke a word, until Aelita finally spoke.

"The return to the past didn't work on him."

Mark growled. "Heck yea, it didn't! I remember everything! Just fill me in on details, please!" The 'please' sounded forced and brittle. Mark was impatient, that much was clear.

Jeremy sighed. "Okay, we'll explain later—but yes. Lyoko does exist. And XANA and kankerlots and a whole slew of other monsters."

"We're the Lyoko Warriors," Yumi chimed in. Mark just sighed. He'd gotten his confirmation, and now he had a headache.

"I'm going to go back to my room," he sighed. "I'll see you guys later."

***

Fire. The house was on fire. I coughed, stumbling out of my room. I had a room near the front door. I couldn't breath—the smoke was everywhere. When I had woken I had choked. I had awoken because I had started choking.

My parents had a room in the back of the house. I had to make sure they were okay. I was near the front door but I headed deeper into the flaming house.

Did they know about the fire? The had to. Were the fire alarms going off? I couldn't tell.

Where was their bedroom door? I should have been there by now.
It was hot. My back was on fire. I saw their door. I touched it and screamed the door felt like it was on fire, too. I choked on my scream. There was no air.

My hair was on fire. It was burning my ears. I fell to the ground, choking and coughing.

***

"Mark…your parents are dead. We did all that we could to save them, but they had breathed in too much of the toxic smoke. You'll go to France and live with your relatives, okay? You'll stay at a boarding school with your cousin…But rest up for now. You took in a lot of that smoke, too…."

I was in a hospital. It was white. There was a doctor talking to me. A nice man. My head hurt. My hair was draped over my shoulders. I couldn't move. Well, I could, but I didn't, because if I did break the stillness then I would break. No, my bones would be fine. But I would break. I would. So I stayed still and listened as the doctor talked although none of the words pierced my inner thoughts. All I thought was that I was leaving, never to return (that I knew of) and they were dead—my parents.

***

An arsonist. A syndicate of murderers. That's who they said did it. That's who the police said started the fire.

I had gotten out of the hospital a day before. I hadn't seen Mark, Leslie, or Max. My entire house was burned down.

I was standing on the curb before the gigantic pile of ashes.

The basement was safe, they said. I wanted to see if anything was down there. But first I had to check my room.

My hand went to my neck. My necklace was still there. It was, it was, it was. I breathed a sigh of relief.

I picked my way through the blackened wood. I found the spot that had been my bedroom, since birth. I got down on my hands and knees, and began searching. I was getting covered in soot, but didn't care. When I found nothing I was frantic. When I found nothing when searching franticly, I became almost at the state of deranged and was rooting through the remains for all I was worth. Tears made paths down my blackened cheeks, my pale skin showing from beneath the soot.

***

Three days out of the hospital and I hadn't seen my friends. On that day, I had found my father's old hoodie, jeans, and cap from when he was my age. They were in a box in the basement and hadn't been touched by the flames. I wore them. I found an old backpack of my mom's and filled it with everything I could from the basement.

Somehow, I'd found a photo album from when I was a baby. There was a duplicate picture in it of me and my twin. My mom had made copies—I was grateful.

I found notes passed in class that I had stashed in a box with old clothing of mine that didn't fit anymore; when my mother had gone on a cleaning rampage and bought me a completely new wardrobe, and moved my old stuff to the basement I had put the notes there. I think I had meant to find them as an adult or something. I don't know, but I sure am grateful to my past self.

But now, three weeks later, I was boarding a plane to France to attend boarding school with my cousin whom I had no idea existed.

I was a different person without my friends and family. I turned to drawing that entire week, that I was traveling. I took several buses and flew to different places, crossing America before finally leaving for France. The first thing I drew was a picture of my old life. A life full of friends, crushes, and family. I labeled it and then sketched whatever came to mind and I drew what I observed, too.

And then I arrived in France and started a completely new segment of my life.

***
Mark's eyes shot open. He knew what he was going to do.

Memories weren't always hurtful, were they? No, Mark had decided. I will no longer run from my past. It's time to embrace the good parts of the past.

Wow! Wowowowowowowowowowowow! Did I really not update this in THAT long? Sorry for this being on hold for such a long time. Last chapter will be out in a couple days!

~Elena