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When the past is all but forgotten, a small blip on a distant radar that she buries down deep within her soul, and when Hugo is old enough to be at peace with his past and upbringing, Amicia looks forward to greeting Death on the eternal plane, in between the life and afterlife. She will greet it not with fear or anger in her eyes and her heart, but rather with solemn resignation for a life, much more akin to a sinking ship, that she has poured her soul into trying to keep afloat. Whilst remembering all that occurs in her life, she will not look back in anger for a life she could have had; she will look back with love for the one she did have, and all of the moments in between that she is eternally grateful to have shared with a special someone.
"Amicia?"
So long as she lives, the thought of casting her body into the black sea of rats will forever haunt her. She blames herself, not Hugo, for what has transpired in every place, every corner of the world, that she curses just by her mere presence. Hugo is just a child, no more than an innocent boy born into a body and a world that is suffering incarnate, and one that wishes to see his blood spilled across endless grass. It is not his fault. Amicia, though, knows she has put him in harm’s way due to a clouded judgment and downright stubbornness. It is never intentional, but she has hurt him. She has said words that, upon leaving her lips, she wishes she could erase from both of their collective memories. She has let his eyes bear witness to things in this world that nobody should have to see, let alone a young child.
Worst of all, she has betrayed his trust time and time again, and yet, she has somehow won it back every single time. In a sea of sadness without light or love that is plagued by rats, Hugo and his heart, despite everything he knows of the world he was born into, is a shining beacon of hope, love, trust, and all that is right in the world. Deep down, Amicia knows that she does not deserve it. She deserves much the opposite: death by drowning in that same dark, sad sea.
“Are you there?”
She is his big sister. Sometimes, she feels like his mother. And yet, no matter a sister or a mother to him, she knows she has not been a good influence on Hugo, and she has not raised him right. His real mother would have done a better job, but, he is stuck, no, blighted, by her. And in an attempt to save him, to ensure him a prosperous life, she knows she has damned him further. Though they may deserve her wrath and much more, she has committed heinous acts nobody her age should dream of, and by extension, has forced Hugo to view it all. He covers his ears and closes his eyes, but he understands the severity of it all. He knows that any life, be it small or large, is beautiful yet fragile, and worth protecting. And yet, he still cries over the spilling of blood every single time. For the fact that he couldn’t save everyone, or the fact that his sister is the one taking life away from someone’s eyes, Amicia does not know. She never will.
“You scaring me.”
Amicia fantasizes about what death will be like. Will it be cold and heartless, like many before her have thought, or will it be warm and reflective, like the end of a long day? She hopes the latter but has come to expect the former instead. If life and all of its many disappointments are an indication, there is no doubt that it will be the former. But maybe it will be something else, something that transcends her comprehension of the world and emotions. One day she will find out.
Amicia also wonders how a conversation with her Maker, if there ever was one, will go. There is plenty she wishes to tell him, none of it particularly ladylike, but she does not care, for after all the carnage brought upon the world she needs answers. But she would not ask about that. She would refrain from asking for forgiveness or salvation in Heaven; its fiery counterpart is what she deserves. Rather, she would ask about Hugo. About his curse, and about the supposed morality of inflicting it upon an innocent soul instead of hers. But most pressing of all, she would ask whatever being lies beyond the veil to protect him, wherever he may go.
“Please wake up.”
She heeds his demand.
The sound of his voice gives her the power to open her eyes. Skies of gray and the saltiness of the water meet her eyes and nose respectively. She sits up from her lying position but finds that her world is spinning. Voices still ring inside her head, some of doubt and insecurity, others the screams of the damned. She powers through it, and, like a light at the end of the tunnel, she sees him. Hovering close to her side, with his hand already gripping hers tightly. He is worried, understandably so, and Amicia did nothing to ease his fears.
“Hugo?” she asks, “Is something wrong?”
“No.”
“Are you certain?”
“No.”
“Then what-“
Within seconds, her head falls back upon the grassy knoll she awoke from. His hand drops from hers, and instead, he wraps both of his arms around her shoulders into the tightest hug a small child could muster. It catches Amicia off guard, for she is not one for physical contact that extends outside of holding Hugo’s hand, guiding him along. She is not opposed to it and never will be for him, but it never quite felt natural. Until now.
Birds chirp happily above, but it is only a distant sound to Amicia. It all is. Every sound, every sense, is distant. In a vast world, the only thing that grows close while the rest fade into the background is Hugo. He is cold, and his occasional waves of shivering ground Amicia like an anchor, keeping her mind from fading to obscurity. Beyond just a cue to help him warm up, the shivering is an omnipresent reminder of her duty to him. His protection. His safety.
And she didn't need to be reminded twice.
She hears Hugo's heartbeat alongside hers. It is fast and scared at first, a mirror to her own, but as time slowly marches by, it slows to a natural rate, all until they are perfectly as one, perfectly in sync with one another. She cannot move, but even if she could, she wouldn't, for a moment as perfect as this deserves to last forever.
“I… I thought-“
“It’s okay, I’m here now,” she says, softly stroking the hair atop his head, “We’re fine, I promise.”
It’s a promise that is out of her control to keep, and one that is solely in the hands of fate. If it is feeling kind, Hugo will make it through tonight, and many more.
If not… she doesn’t think of the not.
"You don't look fine," he says, still wearing a concerned look, "Did I do something wrong?"
“Of course not.”
“Then what is it?”
It’s everything, nothing, and all that is in between. Her next minute, next second, even, is not guaranteed, and from here to eternity, her brain will forever be a mess of thoughts that nobody should have. And yet, until death separates her consciousness and her brain, they flow through her mind seamlessly, as if there is no tomorrow.
"…I like to think,” she answers carefully, “It helps.”
It doesn't help. But she does it all the same.
"You do that a lot."
“I suppose I do.”
She does. If only he knew the full extent of it, but Amicia knows that burden is for her alone to carry; after all, he already bears the weight of a pained world upon his shoulders, he does not need her pained thoughts added on.
“Can I think with you?"
“...Yes.”
The hours pass and the moon begins to reflect off a stream of nearby water when the clouds give way. She silently holds him tightly until he falls asleep. His head rests upon her shoulders, while she is still entrenched in his hug. He stares down into her shoulder, while Amicia stares up into the sky. His breathing slows to a steady rate, and her’s follows. She does not move, not even a muscle, for in this one, small moment, she feels complete, as if nothing the world could throw at her would make a difference, so long as her brother remains close. He gives her the strength to continue, to persevere, to keep him safe, as well as herself.
He is the reason she is still on this Earth.
She falls asleep soon after. Her mind begins to slow to a stop, with all thoughts of no importance leaving her brain in droves.
One stays, though.
Hugo is worth living for. She owes him that much.