So… I read the previous chapters and… It. Was. So. STU. PID! Yup. Those words are emphasized. That's why, I'm going to renovate them a bit… but don't worry the plot will still be the same. I'll put them up later after I update a few chapters. (By the way, the reason I couldn't update fast was because our internet connection was cut off… and it was a really hard time trying to get it back =.=)

Genre: Romance/ Drama/ Mystery/ Friendship

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN GRAND CHASE OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. I ONLY OWN THE OC'S AND THE PLOT.

And as the week, ends,

Leaves fall.

Winter closes in,

And it will be the end of it all.

But… can you endure the suffering of the fall?

Lost Memories: Passing Days

Chapter 11: A Scarred Past I

.

The surroundings became bright.

.

Around me were skyscrapers, with tall windows and adorning lights, their height almost reaching the sky. Lamps along poles lighted the path of cement, giving people their dainty looks. Flocks of human being rounded one corner after another, clacking their heels, looking for a place to entertain their soul. The sound of effervescent vehicles made the place lively yet aggravating, buzzing their honks and screeching their wheels. Entities continued to chatter with their companions, never failing to come up with a topic.

'Where am I?'

I stood in the middle of it all, watching how they walked, cars passing through my side. I observed every single thing I saw, and that's when I noticed: there isn't a single tree in here.

I moved my foot and proceeded to walk, not minding the people making fun of each other. In an alley was a couple, lacking a few of their clothes and kissing each other restless. In another were a group of hoods, wearing smug clothing, putting a cigarette in their lips and setting it with a lighter. In backstreets were adults, hiding to gamble on their money with cards.

The scenery was bizarre itself, and yet the people casually strolled onto the metropolis, as if it was a normal occurrence. Nobody bothered to help another who was ganged up by their fellow men. Nobody tried to report people they see clearly dealing with drugs. People even pictured couples doing illegitimate acts instead of trying to stop them, probably to post them on the internet.

It looks like trying to inspect this city was imprudent, like I thought. I already knew that currently, this is how we live. No one cares for another in this city. They only see themselves, sometimes not even their family. They don't care what happens, as long as they don't get involved. No one wants to get in trouble, after all. Helping another was useless, because they won't get anything in return.

This world can't be called paradise anymore; much less a normal one like God wanted it to be. People expect rewards when they do something good. They don't even bother to help those in need. There are a lot of abandoned and pitiful children in the streets, but not even the government acts to help them.

Why am I even thinking of something as idiotic as this anyway? This isn't like me at all.

Everywhere I strode into only showed more of how filthy this cit- no, this world can be.

.

But that's how they organized the world.

.

The raucous sound of everything coming by all at once made my head ache. I don't even feel like listening anymore.

My feet quickly felt tired and I was forced to a halt. Seeing the surroundings around me, I noticed I didn't even know where I was. Looking back, I knew that I entered an alley.

A man suddenly fell by my side, probably around his thirty's. His eyes held fear in them; fear of getting hurt. His hands were reaching for something, something above him. He glanced at me, his orbs pleading for assistance.

I tried to touch his bare hands, but as I suspected, I only passed through him. It felt strange that he would gaze at my eyes, so he was probably looking behind me. I looked back, only to find an almost rusty, long metal.

Heavy footsteps could be heard from behind the walls, their shadows forming, signaling they were close, very close.

The man looked behind him, a small whimper escaping from his lips. He dumped all his strength in his hands to reach the said metal, his body unable to move any longer. His fingers brushed a little against the said object. He suddenly gave away a terrifying yet relieved smile at the gesture, happy that he'll be able to protect himself.

But that's not going to happen.

A hand with protective warmers, the fingers bare, suddenly grabbed what the man wants.

Said man's face fell, widening his eyes, his mouth agape.

The hefty sounds of shoe came closer, until they stopped behind the man, surrounding him.

A man – probably the leader – smirked, his eyes showing the terror of sadism.

It was dark, but the fallen man had brusque injuries. Every part of his bare body parts without covering held injuries that looked like it will be hard to treat and revert back to the way it was.

What more underneath his clothing?

But my heart couldn't feel anything but pity for the man. Not pity for why he suffers like this, but pity for how weak he is.

A part of me wanted to watch how it will go, and another part wanted to run because of being scared at the sight of death.

I followed the latter.

And so I ran. I ran away from fear. I ran away because I couldn't help. I ran away because I am, after all, too weak.

And yet, I wished I could go back and help him, if I could.

.

But the past can no longer be changed.

.

I didn't know where I was when I stopped. My feet moved as if it knew where to go, as if it was familiar of the said place. I looked around me: houses of grand structures filled the streets with sumptuousness. Each had their own car, their own garden, and their own family.

But the house before me stood above the rest: a mansion, probably.

A massive gate enclosed it, and accompanying behind was a map of lawn and garden, making one unable to see where exactly the household is.

Then, as if on cue, the gate opened with a big creak, it's two arms sliding to hide from my view.

I unconsciously entered the inside like I was being drawn to it, even though I made no sign of knowing the said compound. I could hear the sound of something banging at each other behind me. I knew that sound for some reason: the gate closed.

It didn't matter if I wanted to enter or not. I was trapped, trapped in this display.

There was no turning back now.

After a few minutes of walking, I finally saw the one I was looking for.

My hands reached knowingly for the door's handles, pulling it gently as it made an uncanny sound like those of ghost stories.

As expected, the inside looked like a palace: Marble floors reflected the image of everything standing above it. Golden-yellow with orange and brown colors made the wall specifically royal. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling, giving the entire room their needed light. Paintings from famous artists were displayed in the walls, adding more to its beauty. Stairs were also made of limestone, its steps circling to the other floors, a red carpet garnishing above. There weren't any doors to go to the other rooms, only a big space that's probably many feet tall.

Still, something felt odd inside. It was quiet, too quiet perhaps.

There weren't any maids or butlers rustling to make food because its dinnertime. There weren't any guards protecting the house. Nobody even greeted me or at least felt peculiar that the door would open. Even the person who opened the gate who's supposed to be standing by the door wasn't here.

How did I even know that?

'Who opened the gates, then?'

Was it automatic?

.

And the suspicions continued.

.

Nevertheless, I entered, not minding the weird things happening around me. My footing didn't even have a heel, yet it clattered against the floor.

Perhaps, it was made like this so that no thief can sneak in.

The lights certainly made me feel at ease, because if there was only darkness in this spacy room, even I would definitely feel terrified, nervous at least. Even so, I could feel it: a shadow lurking behind the scenes. It may be my imagination, because of everything happening around me, I wouldn't be surprised if someone came and tried to attack me.

My feet led me to the stairs that seemed like it would go on for eternity, the high ceiling making me feel like this is a prison instead of a castle, as if it would swallow me up.

I suddenly stopped in front of a door. Unlike the others I saw beside it, it was painted wooden, its handles replaced with simple doorknobs. It almost felt like it really was made of wood. Out of curiosity, I felt it. Surely enough, this feeling was that of a timber. It was suspicious, considering the fact that it felt out of place in the vast grandeur this place held.

.

Now then, will you open the Pandora's Box?

.

I stared at the doorknob that held the door in place, my face aligned with it. Only a few turns and a single push, and I will see the things beyond this door. So why am I hesitant?

Curiosity kills the cat.

I heard of that phrase before. It was very common. But, how can I help it? When humans were technically designed this way?

Taking a deep breath, I placed my hand under the knob, preparing to turn it, until I felt something in my hands. I stopped momentarily and looked at it, feeling something in my heart.

My eyes widened at what was before me. There was liquid oozing down my hands and onto the floor. It was not dried yet, so it was probably placed there until just recently; this red liquid.

And I knew this sensation. There was still heat emanating from the liquid, so I'm sure of it.

This has to be blood.

I could hear the sound of an almost silent drip-dropping on the floor. My eyes turned downward. Just below the doorknob came a small pool of that liquid I just found on me. There wasn't much, as it was probably place there when a bloody hand opened the door, but it's still too much for it is dropping on the floor.

Whoever he is must have a lot of blood.

I gulped. Instead of backing out from fear, I felt more interested on what is there beyond this door. I felt my shoulders stiffen just the slightest, and loosen again. My brain deduced that the culprit of this blood was still nearby.

Yet, I didn't feel scared at all. I only felt more intrigued on what I'll see.

Without hesitation, I placed my hand under the knob again. I felt disgusted that I had to touch blood, but for some reason, I felt like I had to see this. I need to see this.

And with a bit of my strength, I flung the door open.

.

And then the world became dark.

.

The scene before me was something I didn't expect… or maybe I did, but didn't want to believe it.

The wall and floors were normal like that of the door. It was also made of wood, long plywood placed together to form the walls and ground. There wasn't a single furniture in the room, and the space was pretty small, like it was lacking or maybe there was no need.

But that's not all there is in this room.

There were people in here, after all. But seeing them gives me the answer as to why no one came to greet me – if they could see me that is.

These people are, after all,

.

.

.

lifeless…

I subconsciously placed my hand slightly over my mouth, my eyes widening in response.

In the center of the room was a girl, probably in her twenty's or thirty's. She wore a white nightgown that suited her pale white skin. Her hair was the color of dark russet, making her skin look whiter. Her eyes, though, had the color of ocean blue, almost like Elaine's, except that her's held no life in them. She was beautiful, very beautiful in fact if not for the blood coming from the side of her mouth and the rope that hung her neck to the ceiling.

Her face made me cringe.

Underneath her feet was a pendant, open and holding a picture.

Hesitantly, I walked to inspect the necklace, trying not to look at the body that came upon my sight.

I was already used to the sight of death. It's a normal occurrence. Every single minute, every second, there is someone in this world who loses their dear life. That can't be prevented. It's what makes the world go round. Why would I be scared at something I always see?

Wait, did I just contradict myself?

The door slowly closed as I removed my hand from it, the lock – a rectangular lock made of wood - immediately came down like an arch from the ever so soft force and completely locked the door, shutting me away from the outside world.

Not minding it, I picked the pendant up, and saw the image of a happy family. It was probably her in this picture, with a man and a child in between them. The child, though, caught my attention. I felt sorry for him, whoever he is.

'He looks so happy…'

I caressed the picture; the face of the child specifically.

'If this person is- no… was his mother, then…'

I felt a pang in my heart as I thought of that. Losing one's own mother isn't a simple matter. It was too much of a dire thought.

'…I wonder what kind of face he'll make.'

Thinking it was pointless, I focused my eyes on the other person in this room: the man in this picture, probably the father of the child.

He sat in the corner of the room; his hair a light rubicund, bangs covering his eyes. Unlike the woman, he wore a business suit. His skin wasn't as white as the woman's, but it was still in the color of snow. His lips looked like he just sucked blood. Lots of those liquid came out of his mouth and forehead, dropping onto the white shirt underneath his tuxedo, making it very noticeable. His tie was also loose, giving me the idea that he was about to take it off. In his hand was an object that you normally see in movies: a gun. His forefinger was still close to the trigger, signifying that he may be the one who shot himself. His head that faced sideways – probably from the force – had a small hole in it. The blood around his hair was quite unnoticeable. His hair was the color of red, so the blood only seemed like it was a highlight in his hair. There was also a very perceptible art of blood around his head.

Only one word retained in my mind as I inspected the scene:

Suicide.

That's right, suicide: the act or an instance of intentionally killing oneself with one's own hands; the process wherein you escape the reality of life by ending your own; a common occurrence to people who can't endure life's complications.

I couldn't bear to look at him any longer. I couldn't endure seeing someone get hurt, or maybe even die before me.

Then what about the man you left earlier?

Maybe a part of me really doesn't care after all.

Suddenly, I could hear soft knocking coming from the door. I felt the need to answer it, although suspicious. Just when I neared it, the knocking became louder, and my hand stopped midway from opening it. I felt the air around me become chilly and suffocating, my heart feeling heavy. Whether it was because of the loud, suspicious sound or the lifeless bodies around me was unknown.

Knocking became banging as time passed – albeit a few seconds. Thankfully for the very steady and strong lock, he couldn't come in.

I took a silent step back, my body feeling a little precarious, possibly from all the events that occurred around me. Slowly, I let my feet guide me backwards as I sauntered away from the door that could possibly open at any moment.

My heart leaped from terror and surprise every time he'll bang on the door harder than the other times. I was almost certain that he heard my heart's cry as he'll resume to knocking again, and then he'll bang on the door when I don't answer, making this scene a cycle of fright for me and pleasure for him.

I continued to step backwards, wanting to just run away as I focused my eyes on the wooden and bloody door. As I took another step back, I felt something softly hit the back of my head. At first, I thought that it may be the wall, but that couldn't be as it followed the wave of my head going backwards. Gradually, I turned my head to look at what I hit, before my heart stopped for a moment when I saw a pale hand in front of my face.

My eyes immediately widened and I yelped a very fast sound, which was immediately cut off by my hand diving straight onto my mouth. Seeing a dead body is one thing, but touching it, more or less being touched by it is a different story. My eyes unconsciously moved to her face, that beautiful yet lifeless face that had the eyes of a dead fish. I skimmed at the other occupant of the room; his face sideways, although I clearly saw a glimpse of his right eye: it was the color of silver.

I bit the bottom of my inner lip to prevent myself from vomiting at the sight. My body's reaction was late. I should have already felt nauseous when I saw them, but it was because I felt it. A part of me, a hidden, small part, enjoyed the sight of seeing dead, living beings. That moment, that part of me was winning, enabling me to make any further reactions.

That's when I remembered a much more important matter; the sound stopped. There was nothing but eerie silence filling the room that engulfed me.

I narrowed my eyes and formed a frown because there was no way he'll give up that easily if he wanted me to open the door that badly that he would try to force the door open.

'Could he be the shadow I felt earlier?' was the thought that ran across my mind as I tried to figure out who was that.

I swallowed my saliva, hoping that he thought no one was here. Sweat trickled down my face as I anxiously waited, time ticking slowly.

Unfortunately, my prayers weren't answered.

I could hear it, from every side of me, the loud banging of human hands. It surrounded the entire room, not enabling me to even back away from horror. I looked to my right; there was sound coming from there. It was the same from my left, in front of me, and so on.

The terrifying knocks and bangs of hands wouldn't stop, and so I clutched my head in fear, hoping to end this dreadfulness. I fell down on my knees. Even as I covered my ears, the ringing wouldn't stop, like it was a broken tape recorder playing in my mind.

I bit my lip, hard. I didn't care if blood would come from my mouth, as long as this misery would end.

Then, as if on cue, the door was forcefully opened.

.

And the nightmare momentarily stops.

.

A hand suddenly shot up from under the red blanket over a king-sized bed. Said person sat up immediately, eyes tired and wide, sweat dripping onto his clothes.

"What was… that just now?"

Jin clasped his face, panting and trying to regain steady breathing. With his free hand, he gripped the blanket tightly, feeling nauseous and sick. He gulped, trying to calm his raging heart down. 'What the h*ck was that?' He hung his head down, abruptly losing even the energy to think of what he dreamt of.

Timing precise, the door opened to reveal someone he didn't expect. She wore a frilly, pink apron over her school uniform, suggesting she just got back from school. Her pink hair was tied into a low ponytail with it hanging in front of her shoulders down to her waist.

He stared at her, already used to the unexpected and surprising, weird things happening around him, but he couldn't stop throwing an inquisitive look to her sudden appearance.

The pink-haired girl's eyes looked weary and a small frown was carved unto her face, an odd look coming from the girl who often smiles. She glanced at his direction, holding a tray with a bowl of porridge and a glass of water accompanied by medicine. At first, her facial expression didn't change at seeing him, but then as a few seconds passed, her eyes regained life and she instantly smiled, a relieved sigh escaping from her pink lips.

She ran to him, but soon stopped when she remembered that she was holding something. She managed a sheepish smile at her actions, and slowly came over to Jin's bed.

She set down the tray she held at the desk beside the bed.

"How are you feeling?" She asked him, her tone worried yet professionally spoken like those of a nurse.

Jin just stared at her and dimly tilted his head, silently telling her that he doesn't get what she meant. His mind, after all, was still filled with the memories of what he dreamed of.

The female's chocolate orbs widened in response, and then kindly fell down, her face having a hint of nostalgia.

"I mean, how are you right now? Does your head feel heavy? Do you feel sick? Did you have a…" She let that last question hang in the air and just waited for Jin's response.

Jin felt heat in his hand that was over his forehead, an unusually warm temperature. He looked down, still feeling despondent at the dream – or nightmare – he just had, not caring whether he was sick or not.

Amy's eyebrows formed a worried look, eyes looking sideways at the memory she just remembered.

"Did you have…," Jin looked at Amy, eyes slightly narrowing, "…a nice dream?"

Her eyes cast downward as she said that, but from Jin's view at that angle, he could see the look in her eyes: sorrow, melancholy, anger, regret…

Regret?

The question didn't even make any sense. Why would she ask if he had a nice dream when the topic was about him being ill?

If he had to answer, though, he would definitely shout at her and say that 'It was a nightmare!'

Amy noticed that the red-head's eyes were on her. Taking a small step back at his soul-sinking gaze, she shook her head at herself and replaced her frown with a forced smile.

"A-anyways, you should take her medicine now. Oh wait… I guess you should eat first…" Changing the subject, she took the bowl of porridge in her hands and handed him the spoon.

"Here. You need to get your energy back. Your cold won't disappear in an instant right?" She smiled as if she really meant it, like she wanted to supply him energy.

Jin stared at what she tried to give him at first, feeling reluctant and unbelieving at the fact that he was sick, but then decided that it would be best if he just followed and stayed silent, his mind still confused.

Just as his hand almost touched the utensil, he suddenly felt pain in his head. He felt heavy and just wanted to rest.

Amy's mouth formed into an 'o' and she settled down the food, placing her hand on Jin's forehead and feeling her own.

"Oh no… your fever is still high… I think it's getting even higher." She took the medicine and peeled its covering off, taking the glass of water and handing both of them to Jin. "For now, I think it's best that you drink your medicine.

Jin feebly nodded, weakly taking the medicine from Amy and stuffing it away at his throat along with the help of water. He gave the glass back and mumbled a small 'thanks', already preparing to lie down again in the soft, comforting bed.

Amy rushed to his side to support his head, laying him down gently and pulling the covers of his blanket over.

"Just wait a little, okay?"

Amy smiled and slowly walked out of the room, wordlessly shutting the door close with a click.

Amy hands gripped the doorknob tightly, head hung low and face unreadable. Her mind held a lot of things, but what concerned her most, for now, was his unexpected illness.

"Did it start?" A voice loomed over the silent room. There in the wall just across the pink actress stood Dio, arms folded to his chest and back leaning on the sturdy wall.

Amy blinked nonchalantly, a bit startled to see the man before her talking to him. She looked at him, and then averted her eyes from his view before nodding and leaning onto the door.

Dio sighed at hearing Amy's response. He closed his eyes for deep thinking before opening them again, his amethyst orbs slightly crestfallen yet determined.

"Well then, it will be best for you to prepare yourself, you and Cloude." He casually placed his hands on his pockets, feet heading for the door.

Amy glanced at him, slightly narrowing her eyes at what the latter said.

Dio paused momentarily as he reached his destination, his head facing the door as he spoke, "After all," he faced Amy, his glare boring into the chocolate orbs and skull of the girl, "-it was your fault that he has to suffer this way."

Since it's FINALLY our vacation, I can update faster than usual. Well, maybe in a week I can post the next chapter since it's almost finished... just need to edit it I guess?

-LBH