Ghosts

Day 4: October 14

"You should have protected me," came an echoing voice.

Zuko looked around blindly for the source, but all he could see were darkened stones in a never-ending tunnel. He became frantic, turning this way and that, searching for something other than the open air and the dirt beneath his feet.

"You should have stayed," came the same echoing voice again.

Zuko swiveled around, looking behind him. He thought he saw a light, somewhere deep in the darkness, and he believed himself. Believed his lying eyes to take him towards the light. His feet moved under him, and he walked towards the point of white, small in the darkness. He kept walking, faster and faster, until he broke out in a run.

He heard the eerie, unearthly voice reverberate through the tunnel, talking to him and only him. "You should have stopped. You should have stayed. You should have kept quiet."

The ethereal voice kept telling him all his should haves.

They plagued Zuko, each word cutting straight into his heart. His heartbeat was rapid in his chest, but not because he ran, but because he was scared. But still, he ran towards the ghostly echo in the tunnel, instead of away from it. He knew that this was something that he needed to do.

Should do.

"You should have kept quiet!" the voice kept repeating to him. "You should have stayed. You should have stayed!" The ghostly voice was filled with agony, undeniable in the way that it caved in around him.

"Please," Zuko tried to scream out. His hand reached in front of him, but for nothing. "Please," he repeated, but his voice had no sound. So he only mouthed the word, Please, again and again.

"You shouldn't have gone away." So much agony, and Zuko only wanted to reach the source and make it end, to make all the strife and sorrow dissipate.

"Why did you leave me?" the voice now questioned.

Zuko knew tears had formed at his eyes, but he didn't feel them. What little bit of vision he had left in the never-ending darkened corridor became blurry. But it didn't matter; he only had one place to go, and that was forwards. But the voice kept seeming farther and farther with each step, and yet the questions thundered in his ears.

"Why did you leave me? Why did you leave me?" the ghost ahead of him asked. Nonstop, until the words became like the very air itself. Why, why, why…?

Zuko's heart was racing, and he found his legs slowing beneath him, though he still tried to run as fast as he could. But the ground would no longer move underneath him, and fatigue creeping into his bones, seeping into his blood. He was tired, and he stumbled and fell hard upon the ground.

He curled up into a ball, his hands pressed to his ears, just trying to make it stop.

Fortunately, it did.

Zuko's hands came away from his ears, and he opened his eyes. Looking above him, he saw a colorless, transparent Mai floating above him. Her eyes were hard, her brow furrowed with anger, and her mouth was in a scowl. But he had another face, that he could see, just past the mask of her anger. One of loneliness, betrayal, and pain.

"Why did you leave?" her ghost asked him. "Why did you leave?"

"I'm sorry," Zuko tried to say, but his words still had no sound. He knew that they never would in this place, no matter where he ran to. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. I just had to do this."

"Why?" Mai's ghost asked him, reverberating off of the walls, chilling his blood. "You betrayed your country."

"I'm trying to help it!" Zuko said desperately. "Please understand!" Tears started streaking down his face, but he knew it was only because of how futile his efforts were. He couldn't explain it to her, not like this. Not when she was a specter in his dreams.

"Don't come back," Mai's ghost said, and disappeared inside the tunnel, leaving him alone in the damp, chilling darkness.

The horror was so great within him, a pressure building in his chest until it felt like his lungs would burst and his heart would stop and his ribs would crack. Don't say that,he thought. Don't say that. Eventually, the horror was so great within him that he was ripped away from the dark tunnel, ripped away from all that had just happened, and was awake again, cold sweat clinging to his skin.

"Mai," he whispered, leaning up on his bed. "Mai."