Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ The Together Arc ❯ Don't Let Me Go ( Chapter 3 )

She stood in the middle of the park, thinking. It was cold, but she couldn't even feel it, even though all she wore was a ratted black t-shirt and jeans. She'd lost her shoes somewhere, she couldn't remember where. Her hands and face were bruised and dripping blood; she couldn't for the life of her remember how they got there, who she fought. They might have hurt; she couldn't tell.

It was quiet amongst the frozen trees and snow; all she could hear was each breath as it left her body. A wet, crackling sound accompanied each breath, a sound that she knew wasn't healthy but couldn't bring herself to care about what that meant. The wind curled around her, pulling and tugging at her ratted long blonde hair, wrapping it around her neck and arms.

She was staring at a small brown bird, ice blue eyes rimmed in purple and red following every twitch and jump the little bird made. She was amazed that this little bird could stay that happy, jumping around in the snow. Snow. She should be cold; the fact she wasn't was not good. She should leave, get somewhere warm. Except... where was she? Blinking, she looked away from the bird and realized that she didn't recognize anything around her. How did she get here?

Suddenly, her feet ached and she looked down; her head spun when she saw the blood coating her battered feet.

"Christ..." she breathed, lifting her foot up to stare at the deep gashes on the soles. How... was that bark? Did she go through the woods? She lived in a fucking city; where the fuck were there woods? Hell... she got far, she guessed. How, though... Now that was the question. One she didn't know the answer to. This was...unusual, to say the least. Normally, she could remember everything. Every fucking thing. Which sucked, but this... not remembering thing was worse. Or weirder. She couldn't tell which. A shudder wracked through her, her hands clenched in reflex. Slowly, she started to walk, following the bloodied footprints, guessing that was the way she came. Not fail proof, she knew, but the only chance she had.

Steadily she moved, putting one foot in front of the other.

"Oh my god, miss! Your feet...what are you doing out here?" A girl’s voice. She turned around.

"...I know you... don't I?" she asked, the words feeling sharp and brittle in her mouth. The shards made her mouth bleed. Or maybe it was speaking... god, she couldn't focus... Cold...

"Hey, what's wrong? W--oh, hell." A man this time. More familiar than the girl...maybe. Older than she remembered...Gods, what was wrong with her!? Damnit.

"Here...gods, is anything broken? Shit, I don't want to hurt you...gods, who did this to you?" Whispered, tears, fear. She looked up.

"Red eyes..." It was a breath of sound, bare movement of lips that cracked and bled. He frowned.

"What?"

"Your...eyes?" Now they were silver. Odd... Red. Red! Now they were red!

"I...know you?" Cold, now it was really cold. A coat was now around her shoulders; it smelled like sex, cigarettes and leather. Damnit, why did she know this guy!?

"How...where am I?" She glanced around again, rapidly, trying to jog her memory.

"You're near the old orphanage--" she interrupted him, grabbing his shoulders.

"You! I know you! Red-eyed kid, black hair that really needed a haircut! You mother gave you that scar; she attacked you with the butcher's knife when she was drunk." She knew him, placed him. A fixed spot. She traced the scar with one broken fingernail. He looked shocked.

"How did you know that?" She tried to smile.

"You told me. Long ago... about seven years ago? What town am I in? I can't...remember... Vincent, help me please!" She clung to him, feeling panicked. She had to get back, oh gods, she had to get back! Damn it!

She pushed away from him, violently, tripping over her own frozen feet; he caught her as she went down.

"You okay? Come on, we need to get you inside; you're going to get sick if you stay outside any longer." Sick. Oh, hell.

She started to cough harshly, doubling over. The girl cursed.

"Damnit, Vincent! We need to get her inside!" She was scooped up, carried off. Everything was a blur, speeding by and twisting in and out of focus. Then everything went black.

It was warm.

She blinked her eyes open, surrounded by golds and reds. Warm colours... She was warm, buried under a quilt. People talking around her.

--bronchitus, pretty far along--

--shattered clavicle, broken humourus, and three of the fingers on her right hand--

--raped, recently too, from the looks--

--multiple lacerations on her feet and arms--

--heavy bruising the cheeks and eyes--

--nose bro--

Red eyes. Staring into hers. Fixed point.

"....v..in....cen...t...?" Weak, uncertain. She hated it. Tried to move her hand. Can't. Restricted. Good god, why can't she--

"Its okay, your arm and hand are in splints. You're not tied down." Calm, soothing. Red eyes.

"...okay..." She blinked at him sleepily. He was lying next to her, rubbing her arm comfortingly. He was smiling; the scar crinkled slightly.

"You okay?" Slight nod.

"Yeah... this isn't... as bad as it can get. I... fought back this time... left...why? ....look bad?" Sorrowful look, red eyes down turned.

"You look horrible. What happened after you left?" She smiled slightly and shook her head.

"No, not the time Vincent... later, promise. You?" Smile.

"Later." She frowned.

"If I go to sleep, will I still be here when I wake? Or will I be underground? Don't let them bury me..." she was drifting fast. Focus point. Red eyes. Silver. No, damnit! Red!

"I won't let you be alone." Red eyes. Warmth. Darkness. Flat line.

~*~*~
AN: Third installment! Woot! I wrote this while watching Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. Good movie. Weird story, I know, prolly doesn't make sense. Ending wise, I mean. Not ESotSM, but this fic. Like it, though. Hope you guys do, too. Later!