A/N: Eos Blaze was kind enough to let me use one of her marvelous poems in whichever way I wanted! The words below in this note are hers:
"A heart that breaks,
The pieces drown in my tears,
The emptiness aches,
The pain is more than I can bear,
I sit like a statue forgotten,
The stone weary and wood rotten,
I sit crying for memories that were,
Away from home in this wilderness I linger..."
Again, while the above belong Eos, I did modify it them a little in order for it to fit this update a bit better.
Anywhosers...
Chapter Four
"Roses are red, violets are blue," I whisper. "I feel like an owl in here, asking why, how, who … who?"
I lie in the fetal position, too weak to move and throat still dry from all my screams. I yearn for fresh water to drink, not the dirty mixture I swear was here. I shiver, having nothing to warm myself with. I ache from the natural reaction to the hard ground and cold air. My joints and muscles are overworked from the continuous tensing and contracting. My head pounds, and no amount of holding or pushing on it makes it better.
"Roses are red, violets are blue. It's so cold. Why must this be true?" I shudder, but continue, hoping to keep my sleep deprived mind occupied. "Roses are red, violets are blue. I think I remember, but my mind is askew. Roses are red, violets are blue. If I get out of here, maybe I can marry you."
What I wouldn't give for this to be over … in whichever way.
"Roses are red, violets are blue. I wish … I wish … oh, how I wish you knew. I wish you knew about the where, the how, the why … I wish you'd hurry before I die."
I take a deep breath, closing my eyes at the new and rare smell of something akin to rain. "Roses are red, violets are blue. The smell of peace is with the morning dew. Roses are red, violets are blue…" I trail off, trying to think. "Roses are red, violets are blue…" I sigh. "I'm too tired to think of anything new."
I feel the ground vibrate, but only slightly. I don't move; I can't. Slowing my breathing, I try to see if I'm just scaring myself or if it's another nightmarish hallucination. I can't remember how long it's been since that last one, but it couldn't have been more than a few hours ago. I breathe out and then feel it again, and again, and again, until I see a bulge form in the dirt near the abyss of a hole. I push myself up into a sitting position, groaning in pain from stiffness.
My eyes widen as a hand breaks through the dirt, and any blood I had in my head drains, leaving me lightheaded. The hand claws at the ground, trying to pull whatever is attached out with it. As it digs, new areas of its flesh are exposed until the head emerges, letting out a growl of sorts. The humanoid creature is black and wet—with what, I don't wish to know—the moonlight reflecting off of it. It's so dark in my room that it's hard to tell what the face holds, for I cannot see the eyes, nose, or ears, if there are any.
When its upper half is visible, it releases a screeching sound. I jump back, hitting the wall behind me and covering my ears from the sudden high pitch. I have nowhere to run, nowhere to hide from this evil. I want to do something—anything—to avoid whatever it is, but I don't know what. I have little strength left in me. The creature finally clears the hole from which it came, jerking like its joints can bend in every which way. It's unnatural, and a fear I've never felt before overcomes me. I can only close my eyes and pray that it takes me quick.
The hands grip my ankles and drag me closer. It happens so fast that my head hits both the wall and the ground in the process, and the skin along my spine burns from the friction. My eyes snap open out of instinct and I regret it instantly. The creature's face is void of any features; no eyes, nose, cheek bones, or lips. Its head is shaped like an upside down teardrop and looks to only have a small hole for a mouth.
"Roses are red, violets are blue," a deep, soulless voice says. "It's all in your head, you see? We own you." The memory of Harry Potter and the dementors at Azkaban comes to the forefront of my mind. While that was fictional, this most certainly doesn't seem to be. "Take solace in your end."
The mouth widens to almost three-quarters the size of the creature's head and then I feel like I'm exhaling. I feel myself slipping, involuntarily giving it all memories and emotions, including any hope of an escape that involves me living. I simply start giving up on hope itself.
My heart breaks. The pieces drown in my tears. The emptiness aches. The pain is more than I can bear. I lay like a statue forgotten, the stone weary and wood rotten. I cry for memories that were.
The room grows darker, impossibly so.
This is it, I think.
I can't remember anything. Did I have a family? Friends? Did I have someone who loved me waiting for me at home? What is love again?
I feel something slide down my temple. Is that a tear? How? I didn't think I had any left. Why? I think I know why. I grieve in the knowledge that I can't remember my life.
Like the fallen petals from a rose, nothing remains but the stem.
Away from home in this wilderness I linger... simply existing.
A/N: Answers start next chapter.