Archive of Our Own ^beta

When Somniere awakened, it felt as though it was common knowledge that it would emerge from the ground from where it had been buried. Far beneath the ground, to the point where drills couldn’t get to its tomb.
But, I wasn’t expecting it to explode out of the earth.

The soft rumbling, the ground shaking violently as Joseph stood triumphantly in front of us. TJ and Suzie stood beside me, as I gripped my fists and kept shooting the vicious man glaring looks. Filled with a real hate that I truly possessed. Player wasn’t far off, already drawing out capsules before suddenly, boom!
It felt comedic almost.
The earth seemed to shoot debris in every direction, stone hurling towards almost everybody that had gathered around to try and put an end to Joseph, or even help him. My father, the executives, some random members of Joseph’s weird lunatic cult…they all had stood somewhere off away from Joseph, away from my friends and I.

I didn’t catch a glimpse of Somniere, except from the colors of its head.
I stopped trying to see when I tried to move away from an oncoming rock, before it slammed into my head. I felt a pinch in my stomach, a sharp pain but I didn’t process it for long when the rock hit me.
I could see some of my blonde hair fall into my face as my shutter shades were knocked off and a sudden darkness. It was a bit funny, to think I was able to see my own hair before the rock only a millisecond later seemed to crush my skull in.
The funniest part? I didn’t feel scared, I was just confused.
Everything had happened so fast, I didn’t register it. One second I was standing, full of life, and the next the world is black and my thoughts were trying desperately to run away from me; scarily almost like they were fading.
But that was the only fear I felt.

People always question when someone dies, “Were they scared? Did they know what happened?” and for me, I wasn’t scared. A little bit, yes, but not scared. Suddenly startled is what I’d say.
I was more confused if anything. I knew what had happened, but I was just confused.
Was that it? An epic fight is about to ensue, the saviors all lining up, ready to fight to the death for their world, and save those around them…only for them to crash and burn to…debris. I didn’t even get to see Somniere.
If I were going to die like this from the start, was it worth trying? Was it worth making friends and fighting through all those hardships just to die? To not even fight? To not even get that chance to fight back?

But strangely enough, the black void was comforting.

I didn’t feel anything, not the sharp pains I had felt before I went down. I couldn’t hear the terrible noises of the ground splitting and breaking below me anymore.
And I was okay with that strangely enough.
Until, the void began to fade away.

I had hope for just a few seconds as it faded, I was ready to open my eyes, join back the fight. Wake up in a tent cuddled up next to my friends as we take one last rest before we march off towards what could be our sudden deaths. Come back from zoning out, standing next to them as we walk towards the next key perhaps.
But it wasn’t any of those choices.
When my eyes could see, I was in a bathtub and there was water surrounding me.
And the first thing I can think of is, I am smaller than I was before. I am not a teenager anymore but I am in the same body.

I gaze around the lavish bathroom around me, large in size. Marble counters nearby. A woman stands at one, before turning towards a closet and grabbing the gold colored knob. She looked familiar. She had a darker pink in her hair, close to how Portia’s hair was.
And when she turned around, I didn’t gasp like I wanted to. I couldn’t tug my gaze away like I wanted to, and when I recognized her; I confirmed at least one thing.

The seven seconds of memory people theorize about? It must be real.

The woman was Rebecca, Portia’s mother.

She was holding two towels and only then did I realize I was currently submerged in bubbles. I opened my mouth to say something, but I was met with a large splash and a loud giggle. My head whipped around and I was looking at Portia. A younger version. She was repeatedly thrusting a large amount of water towards me.
I remember this.

Me and Portia were only 4 and 5 at the time. Rebecca had always bathed me and Portia together because she had always insisted it was way easier than doing separate baths. Especially when the men were both off at work, unable to maintain us. Rebecca had work but she usually took off most days to tend to me and Portia. She treated me like I was her own child, my mother had died a year prior so she was basically forced to take me into her nest.

I let out a yowl of discomfort, and splashed back at Portia who let out a squeal similar to that of a pigs in response. Her happiness was refreshing.
She grabbed a handful of bubbles and threw them at me. They landed gently upon my rosy cheeks and I let out another scream. It sounded similar to a banshee!
I was a screamer as a kid, that was for sure.
“Stop it, Portia! Stop!” I yelled loudly. Portia seemed to startle and stop and Rebecca hurried over with a large sigh.

“Oh, Portia! Won’t you be a bit nicer to Quince?”
She scolded the girl lightly. Portia pouted in response which was followed up by a long drawn out whine as Rebecca gripped up two towels.
“But he never has fun! He’s a big baby.” She complained before letting out a huff and settling down properly into the water across from Quincy.
Portia began to grab at the bubbles, as I could feel myself whimpering, as if about to burst into tears.

Rebecca grumbled angrily before looking at Portia and pointing to her, “You oughta be nicer to your younger brother, Missy.” She lectured.
Portia only nodded and sighed rather dramatically, before beginning to build small towers out of the soap bubbles.
“I’m not a baby.” I whimpered out towards Portia. I shoved some water towards her, and she repeated the same motion but much more gently than she had been previously. She had cared enough about the silly lecture and soft argument to actually tone her actions down. Something that seemed to be rarer in more recent times.

I never had realized how much I took for granted. I cried at this moment but if I could control my feelings, my actions, my words, then I would have reacted differently here. I would’ve thrown bubbles back, I would’ve laughed, I would’ve talked with Portia one last time.
Which began to make me think.
Did she fall with me or was she still standing? Was she next to the executives still? Instead of me and my friends? Why did she choose to stand next to them instead of us?
That part was so confusing to me.
The turmoil I felt for her standing alongside her colleagues instead of us had been massive. She chose the people who berated her, who threw her down when she wanted to do anything. She chose them over us.
I had wanted to ask her so terribly but in reality, how could I ask her that when the only people who raised her was Doodleco?
She grew up in a thunderstorm, and I was asking her to step away from the torn umbrella that kept her almost protected from the reality of the rain. It didn’t keep her safe from the thunder, but it kept her safe.

Portia didn’t say anything more as she kept making small waves towards me. I wasn’t on the verge of tears anymore, instead I could feel a giggle erupt from my throat. My blonde hair was full of suds, it was longer than it usually was now. I could see it at the front of my vision, some of it falling in front of my eyes.
I began to splash more towards Portia, my brain suddenly finding the fun in all of this. The stupidity in being upset over water when I was inside of it.
Portia let out a laugh and crashed into the water in front of me, sending it everywhere. I joined in, and promptly Rebecca came rushing over, lecturing us both.
I didn’t hear her, I didn’t quite remember what she had said but I could tell it was something to do with getting all that water on the floor.

I just laughed. I remembered this day like it was yesterday now. Which was shocking because it had been years and it definitely wasn’t something I thought about frequently.
It was the happiest my younger self had been since my mother passed away and I remember now how I became more and more happier afterwards. Portia and Rebecca were a large reason as to why.

I was drenched by the time Rebecca scooped me up with a towel and out of the water. She wrapped it tightly around me before grabbing at Portia next.
I was so small. Half of the doors were way bigger than I had been in recent times. Hastily, I began to shake my head. The water from my hair went flying onto Portia who immediately did the same thing, as if copying me.
I looked at her and she smiled as wide as she could.
Rebecca took our hands and walked us towards the counter, grabbing a small high chair and sitting on it before taking one of us and beginning to blow dry our hair. It was Portia first and I watched intently.
Portia didn’t have the pink hair she had brandished in real time. Her hair was a nice dark brown, matching her mothers hair before she had dyed it I assume.
When Rebecca passed away, Portia had dyed it pink in hopes of looking closer to how her mother looked in most pictures nowadays.

I watched as she quickly dried and Rebecca began to dress her before setting her down next to me. Rebecca grabbed me up next and I had forgotten how gentle the woman was.
She set me down on her lap and gently began to comb through my hair before turning on the blow dryer and drying my hair. I held my towel tightly, feeling slightly scared that she might accidentally somehow burn me with the warm air that excelled from the device.
It was a nicer feeling, something I had grown to miss as I grew up. The feeling of Rebecca’s hands tangled in my hair as she blow dried it.
The comfort of having her near me. I hadn’t even known it but I had lost another mother too when Rebecca passed away. This time I was able to process it though unlike my own mother, and I had tried to keep a straight face whenever it was told to me and Portia that she was gone.

But for now, I enjoyed the peace as she gently handled me.

After my hair was dry, she began to dress me and I tried my best not to complain. I could feel the discontent with the clothes she had picked out but my younger self had kept it to himself. I decided to be easy for Rebecca because a part of me understood how difficult it probably was to do this for two kids without another adult to help.
She set me on the floor and Portia immediately bolted out of the bathroom; as if initiating a game of tag. I took one last glance to Rebecca.
I soaked in all those beautiful details I had almost forgotten about my adoptive mother. I admired her. I felt grateful for the help she had provided me, the comfort she had given to me, the everything she had done. That was my second mother and it felt like I had forgotten that.
I smiled at her as she beckoned me forward, her eyes softer as she looked at me.
“Go on, Quince.”
She quietly said.

It seemed different now, considering my situation.
Considering I wasn’t alive anymore.
It was like Rebecca was telling me, “Go now…It’s not worth wasting the time you have remaining.”
I nodded briskly towards her and turned away before rushing out the door; determined to follow Portia to where she had gone.
Only for the door to not lead me anywhere I had wanted to go.

The bright lights and beige colors of my old apartment were now gone in a flash, and I was met with the nothingness of the void once more where I seemingly lived temporarily now.
The memory had felt like more than seven seconds, that was for sure, but maybe it was different for the living world. Maybe it had been a second.

I stood there…or floated…or whatever you do in the void. I couldn’t tell what position I was at anymore but I assumed I was laying down perhaps. Like how I should be in the real world.
It didn’t take long before my eyes felt heavy, and I opened them once more.

I wasn’t met with as many colors as I was last time.
I wasn’t in water anymore but I was in a car. It was raining outside of it, and I could hear the downpour splattering against the windows of it as I sat in the backseat. My body felt tired, maybe from something that had happened or just from the dark atmosphere of the day.
I turned and looked around, and I could tell I was not a child anymore.
Portia was in the other window seat, just the middle seat away from me.
I could tell this memory had been after Rebecca’s death because Portia’s hair was a bright pink.
I felt a sudden pain in my heart, thinking about how the woman I had just been staring at just a few seconds ago was gone now.

I pushed the harsh feelings away, for just temporarily so I could get through this memory. So I could watch like a spectator through my own eyes.
It was dark out, and I could tell we were stuck in traffic, somewhere near DoodleCo City that was for sure.
It was a few years later now. DoodleCo had progressed significantly since the years when Rebecca passed away.
I could try to guess my age, I had to be around 13. Which means Portia would be 14. Two years away from taking up the executive position.
They wanted her to be in it as soon as she was available to work and Portia was dreading it. He could tell because everytime they talked about it, she would look worried, and she would become anxious in the conversation.
But for now, I could tell she was asleep.
This memory was not about her.

My eyes found the man at the front, in the driver's seat.
It was my father.

It wasn’t everyday he drove, of course. But my father had always liked the feeling of independence for himself so not having a butler driving was relieving to his nerves. I had always thought it was a bit stupid but I was raised rich, my father wasn’t so maybe it was just normal for him to drive to relax.
It took a minute or two before the memory of where I was and why I was here came flooding back.

It had been a rough day for my father. A meeting with another company to partner with Doodleco was supposed to happen except the CEO for the other company cancelled it due to the oncoming storm.
My father wasn’t too upset by it but it seemed like the day had gotten progressively worse as he navigated around the office. Me and Portia hadn’t been there, stuck in some little holding area for “Children”
We both had just sat there and played on our phones all day, usually together to kill boredom.
My father was a quiet man. My mother dying had made him quieter.

I barely spoke to him, I addressed him formally as ‘Sir’ and ‘Father’ but he cared for me. I could tell he did because he still fed me, he still told me goodnight.
The only thing he rarely did was say that he loved me.
Which is why this memory was so precious to me.

Thunder boomed outside the vehicle as we remained stuck in traffic. My eyes wander the freeway of vehicles next to me, some going by speedily in a fast lane on the other side of the busy lane next to me. The toll had to have been at least 8 dollars with how slow traffic actually was. It was at a complete stop sometimes.
Caused by an accident that must have been hard to move.
I never thought of it but when you’re driving by car accidents, you never really think about the lives that were lost in them. You just kinda look at them and go, “Huh, that’s pretty bad” and move along.
But when you’re dead, you start thinking about it a bit more as you watch through the eyes of your own body.
The person that blocked traffic that day, that frustrated my father, was dead. They had no way to apologize for the fact their death had caused such a small inconvenience and that is something that scares me to think about.

I didn’t apologize either to anybody before I left, I know I didn’t do anything but I wish I still said sorry.
Maybe I wanted to because I was about to make them all mourn once they found me on the grass, dead.

I pushed aside the thought and watched as I glanced around before finding myself staring at my father some more.

“Father?” I asked, but with a shy tone to my voice. I don’t know why I had been so scared of speaking up to him; he never did anything angry towards me but I guess I had just learned it from somewhere.
Maybe the executives? It wasn’t hard to pick up such a manner when Cortes was always shooting insults towards the nearest person, or Teneson wasn’t grunting about something angrily.

My father turned his head slightly, to let me know he was listening. He let out a soft grunt of acknowledgement before turning his attention back to the road.
“Do you know when we’ll be out of traffic?” I questioned, my eyes finding themselves wandering back to the road, leaving the back of my fathers head as I slumped backwards. I watched the water as it slipped down the window for a few seconds before my eyes darted back over towards my father.
“Don’t know.” He answered briskly and turned his own head to look out the window to his left. I could feel disappointment rise in my body before I looked back out the window.
What had I been expecting? An actual answer? I mean it was obvious we weren’t gonna be moving out of traffic any time soon.

It felt like hours but I continued to watch. I didn’t care that I was reliving the memory. I liked the feeling of being alive. Even if I wasn't.
It was hours in the memory, but maybe it was a split second in real time but after a while the car began to move quickly. The rain continued on, regardless of it having been a few hours but it wasn’t thundering anymore.
An occasional flash of light would overtake the sky but that was really it. Nothing more.
Then, we passed the crash site, and I felt myself get a bit sadder. There wasn’t anything left of the front of the car as we moved past, speeding up slightly. There were police, an ambulance, and a firetruck. They all were pulled to the side of the highway.
I had turned to look out Portia’s window at this point to see it and I grimaced. She seemed to have woken up and turned her head away, her eyes portraying nothing more than sadness.

I stopped leaning over to look, my mood soured.
My dad looked a bit taken aback. I eyed him as he turned his head a bit, towards me.
It was like he was thinking of it, of the crash, realizing that there was once somebody’s baby in there. Not an actual baby, but you get it.
He just looked out of the corner of his eye before looking forward at the road to drive safely, and then looked at his rear view mirror.
My dad didn’t say anything, the air in the car was quiet yet somber. Portia had closed her eyes again, as if trying not to think about it.
And it took a bit before my father let out a breath that he seemed like he was holding as he drove at a good pace on the highway, no more traffic.

“I love you, Quince.” He muttered. It sounded strangled but it was genuine.
I was quite shocked and I looked around in confusion. I had begun to hate that name but hearing it at the end of an I love you changed my opinion on it just for that moment.
I opened my mouth to reply, then shut it again.
I looked out the window awkwardly before looking back at my dad and opening my mouth to reply back.

“I love you too, dad.”

Which was shocking because I rarely ever used the word Dad to refer to him. I always used Father.
I could see him smile in the front seat. As if I had reassured him of something in his head and I looked over at Portia.
She didn’t say anything and I had just assumed she was asleep once more. I couldn’t even look at her for confirmation that it was real.
My father had just told me he actually loved me, for the first time in a while.
I was giddy, with excitement. My smile grew and I looked out the window at the rainy sky, and the wet road as we went. The cars flew by and so did the time and I still smiled.
It was a gloomy day, the circumstances of that I love you quite saddening but it was still a statement of appreciation towards me.

I liked that moment. I loved that memory.
Because I had felt wanted and loved and I didn’t need to assume it for once. All those good feelings came from one statement and I am now questioning why I didn’t say it more towards the people I loved.
If it made me feel like that, imagine how it could’ve made others feel.
I was so loved in my life and that is amazing. I had taken that all for granted at the moment but I was loved!

My smile shifted, and went away gradually and so did the world.
It faded, and I could feel my…heart quicken. If it was even there anymore. I felt my brain go numb, more than it had been before as the void greeted me once more.

How many seconds had it been? Two in real time? Or one? Or maybe a millisecond? Was time more different in this state of nothingness?
I pushed that thought away, letting it go to the back of my mind to hopefully fade with the others.
I could still feel the time crunching at them. My thoughts.
Some random things I had begun to forget because what was my favorite color? Was it relevant now that I was dead though anyways?
I tried to think of a color and it was shocking to say that I couldn’t think of one that I actually could name my favorite.

Time was surely running out.
I tried to think for a minute, and I began to relax as my brain calmed down. It was peaceful when you forgot about why you were here.

That peace quickly diminished as I attempted to open my eyes and found myself coughing and sputtering.
My chest was hurting badly and I was panicking.
My breathing was harsh and there were tears flooding my eyes. My stomach ached as I gasped for any air that was still in my lungs. I couldn’t see my surroundings but I whipped my head around, soaking in whatever I could.
This was a memory. This is recent.
I remember this.

I had started arguing with Suzie, something about her trying to catch a doodle and I had upset her badly. I had insulted her and I felt like she was going to leave me.
I was scared because I had upset her, I was scared she’d never wanna talk to me again and that was why I was panicking. That’s why I was crying. That’s why I was so terribly upset to the point of my chest hurting.
It had felt like my heart was being split into pieces, because I didn’t want Suzie to not be my friend anymore.
Looking back at it, I cringe because it was totally an overreaction but it had hurt.
And despite me not being there, it hurts now.
It felt like my chest was being torn to pieces and I attempted to try and gasp myself.

I stared at the ground and tried to curl in on myself more, gasping so hard that my throat began to hurt physically. It felt like needles were sticking into my flesh and tearing until they were deep. It felt like I had walked onto thistle in my yard while I was barefoot except that pain was in my throat, not my foot.
I felt like screaming but I had no voice.

Breathe! You idiot! Breathe!
I tried to yell to my own stupid self. I tried to force this body that wasn’t mine anymore to take a deep breath in, to remember that Suzie isn’t the kind of friend to drop me over a bad argument or an insult.

I moved my hands up towards my throat and grabbed at it, trying to squeeze it as if it would work a miracle. It wouldn’t and I let out a loud cry of pain as I almost fell onto my side.
It hurt so badly and I couldn’t do anything! It felt uncontrollable! It felt hopeless to even try.
That was until I felt arms wrap around me and a small voice shushing me quietly.
“You’re alright- You’re alright. You’re okay, Quincy.”

Suzie.
She had come for me.
It didn’t help my breathing but I could feel myself relax, as if my biggest fears had been banished to the shadows. A relief flooded me as I tried to regain the breath that had escaped me only moments before. Tears still flooded my eyes and poured down onto my cheeks but Suzie’s arms wrapped around me was more relief than I could have ever asked for.

“Quincy, you’re going to be okay. We should count!” Suzie prompted, her voice steady.
She sat and held me for what had to be minutes as the pain seemed to untangle itself from my chest and run. Like it had been caught doing something bad and had to flee the scene.
I leaned against her, pressing myself promptly into her as if I were attempting to meld into her.
Suzie was here.
She was comforting me.

I felt a panic rise in my chest again as I seemed to remember what had happened earlier and I shook my head, “Suzie, I’m- I’m so sorry.” I spit out and gasped for breath once more.
The pain seemed to grab at my chest again, coming back for a round two before she just wrapped an arm around my head and dragged it into her chest.
“It was just a dumb argument, Quincy. I forgive you, even if I am still a little mad.” She replied and hugged me even tighter.
“I didn’t want you to panic, Quincy, genuinely. I just needed to walk away to clear my head. I’m not gonna leave you, not like I did in Icyridge.” Suzie continued as I bent my head to shove more into her chest, something urging me to for comfort.
I felt like I was hiding from all those bad thoughts.
I felt like I was hidden.

I didn’t reply for some time, taking in the scent on her jacket. I was bigger than her but somehow I was curled up just enough to be at a perfect height for her to hug. A perfect height for me to cuddle up against her and receive the affection I needed from a friend.
I breathed evenly now and my tears began to dry as I sighed.

I could take in my surroundings now. A borbo was somewhere off in a near tree, chirping wildly like it was screaming to the world. I could hear the trees around me rustling as the wind blew through them. I could hear the shifting of the grass below me and Suzie as she began to rock me side to side.
I began to feel a deep sense of peace, like everything was going to be okay.
There didn’t need to be words.
Like how there didn’t need to be words between me and my father to know we loved each other (even though it was a greatly appreciated thing if we said it.)
The silence between me and her didn’t need to be broken because it was comfortable. It wasn’t bad. It was nice.

I took my head away from her, because admittedly it was becoming uncomfortable and painful from being bent over trying to relax on her chest.
She still didn’t say anything as I pulled away with a soft sigh.
I turned to look at her though as I began to stand up, “Thank you.” Was all I could manage to mutter to her before offering her up from the ground.
She willingly took my hand and joined me by my side.
“Don’t worry about it, you’re going to be okay, Quincy.” Suzie replied back before taking her hand away and beginning to move forward, away from me. She beckoned though with her other hand for me to follow and I began to.

Only for the world to be ripped away from me.
Quicker than it had been previously, and I didn’t voluntarily open my eyes as the world around me greeted me harshly.

My chest was screaming at me in pain, and I knew this was no memory.
My stomach ache and hurt just the same, and everything at the front of my body felt like I had just broken a thousand bones.
I wanted to scream but my mouth didn’t open, but the darkness was still clouding the corners of my vision.
I could feel the strength of a man pushing against my chest, and my hearing returned to me.
A massive roar sounded from nearby and the earth shook violently as a crash sounded right afterwards.
The only person I knew that could push down with the strength used to break bones and not give up after a few seconds was TJ.

“Come on! Quincy! Come back!” TJ yowled over the commotion that sounded from nearby. I heard an abrupt scream from a person and then another from a doodle.
The pain was unbearable in my body and everything felt so wrong.
I was supposed to be dead! Had TJ revived me? How would he have even done that? Could I move?

To attempt to answer my own question, I tried to move but I couldn’t feel my body respond. This was no memory. I was now sure of it because I had never felt such brutal pain in my life.
TJ continued to give it all his might, screaming at me as I tried to move my eyes.
I was still dead, but I could see and I could feel and god did I wish I couldn’t feel.
My brain was hurting, maybe even worse than my stomach. It felt so cold and only then did I realize I could only see out of one eye. Something had damaged or destroyed the other.

“Quincy, hold on there! It’s- it’s not over yet. You gotta get up, man!” TJ yelled desperately. I wanted so badly to pull him closer and give him the same comfort Suzie had just been giving me because I could hear the pain behind his voice.
I tried to breathe one last time but I felt something else erupt from my throat.
It wasn’t oxygen, but it was a substance.
From the fact my stomach was in such deadly amounts of pain, I could only guess what I had choked up.

“Yes?! No! That’s bad! That’s bad! That’s worse!” TJ panicked, his heaving immediately stopping as he seemed to celebrate at first before quickly stopping.
I couldn’t move my eye at all to look around but I was definitely awake. I was slightly conscious but I still had to be dead.
Another roar sounded, followed by a more menacing one. A tide had turned in the vicious battle and I could hear a yowl of joy from close by.
I wasn’t sure who was winning, but I was hoping it was my friends.
I saw TJ move out of the corner of my eye, out of the shadow that blocked some of my vision. He had pressed his head to my chest and I could tell because I could feel his head against it.
He let out a yelp, as if shocked.

TJ’s arms wrapped around my body and grabbed me upwards as he began to try and move me to an upright position, his head still against my chest, as if monitoring it.
The pain in my body seemed to have been numbed when I tried to forget about it but every movement made it feel worse.
Stop. That hurts. I wanted so badly to yell at him. I wanted to tell him to set me down and just let me go back to my last seconds of peace. I wanted him to let me go back and witness the joys of my life before I left. I wasn’t even scared during them but now I was feeling fear rise in me.

I was beginning to fear that oncoming death.
Because I was accepting that TJ could not save me.
The damage in my body was too bad. I knew it because I could feel it. It felt like things inside of me were broken, split open and spilling everywhere, and the way my head was aching, there was no coming back.
And I think TJ realized that because he set my broken and battered body back down and began to wail.
It was brutal.
The screams he let out were haunting, like when a mother hears that their child is dead except these cries were for a teenage boy's only friend dying on a battlefield.
These were cries of acceptance because that boy realized that no matter how much CPR he did, his friend was not recovering from the deadly injuries inflicted by rocks and debris.

I could feel a sadness rise in me but I could not cry for TJ because I simply wasn’t able to and that would be like mourning myself.

When TJ had placed me down, my head tilted to the side and I could finally see something that wasn’t the sky or TJ.
It was the field we had all once stood in but it was destroyed. Debris was everything, large boulders and smaller rocks all thrown around. A giant hole was gaping in the ground from where Somniere had emerged.
It was demolished, and I could see blood painting the grass like it was just a canvas.
I couldn’t tell if most of it came from me or other people and that was what scared me the most to think about.
Because there was a lot of blood.

I wanted to suck in a breath as I stared straight ahead. The sounds of battle seemed to drain away from me and so did the horrible feeling of pain. It was basically numbed as I gazed forward.
I wasn’t able to move my eyes still. I felt conscious but also not at the same time.
I was dead but I could see like I was alive.
It felt like I was in a memory despite this being real.
Except in this memory, I’m not staring through the eyes of someone who is alive. I am staring through the eye of a dead body.
And that body just so happened to be mine.
I knew I had to be somewhat alive because how else would I be able to see though?

It confused me and I felt like I was gonna go back to the void more scared then I had been the first time.
Because unlike the first time, I had not felt the pain or fear of dying. It had happened in a split second.
But due to TJ somehow getting me working for a few more minutes, I now felt all of it.
And it was horrifying.

In my field of vision, I could see a body. I tried to soak in every detail of what they looked like, to try and remember who it was.
But it felt like half my thoughts were too far gone to try and gather names.
The only names I could remember were my friends and…Joseph.
Except that this person was not TJ nor Suzie. It was not Player and…I was hoping it was not Portia.

But the scariest thing about this body?
It was too mangled to identify if it was even an adult or teenager. Too destroyed to identify if it was a woman or man.
Because the top half of the body had been utterly crushed underneath a rock almost double its size; it looked like a giant ketchup packet had exploded from the way the blood was covering the grass nearby.
Their clothing was ripped to the point and dirtied to the point where I couldn’t even make out what color they were wearing.
All I could see was red and white. Their shirt had white in it.
White that carried around to maybe the back…or the front of the body because I couldn’t even tell if it was twisted around or front facing.
It’s head had been destroyed by the boulder that lay upon it so was it worth trying to figure out?

But a part of me couldn’t stop wondering.
Because whoever was buried under the rubble had a chance to be Portia.
The person that had basically been my sister my entire life, could have been crushed.
And that terrified me more than the fact that I was already dead.
Because Portia didn’t deserve to wind up crushed beneath a rock.
She deserved to die after 70 more years had passed. To die peacefully surrounded by loved ones.

So I began to pray.
Silently.
Do not let the unidentified body be Portia. Do not let Portia be the one mangled and crushed beneath rocks because I didn’t get the chance to say how sorry I was for my treatment towards her.
I didn’t get the chance to say goodbye.
But maybe just maybe the person under those rocks was Joseph? Because Joseph was the only person besides Portia who had something white on.

I switched my focus.
I was praying now that it was Joseph beneath that rubble, I prayed that he suffered as he went. I prayed he was like me right now, conscious and trapped beneath a boulder while in pain.
No voice to scream with.
I prayed he was dead like me because Portia did not deserve to be underneath that rubble.

I prayed until the world around me faded away again, and I left one more time.
I left with the sudden zoning in of hearing the world seemingly falling apart around me and the sobbing of TJ.
I left with no clue on who was dead.
I left angry.

And when I came back to my senses, I was back in the void.
The silence was becoming painstakingly loud. Louder than the screams and roars had been before. It was loud and I wanted to leave before I got trapped here forever.

I was more…tired than I was before. I could still feel the pain.
It was far away but I could still feel it ebbing into my body, grabbing at my flesh and seemingly tearing at it.
For once, I was hoping for it all to end.
I was hoping any memory I was shown was given to me quickly.
I felt more confused than I had been previously, being brought to life had given me a harsh reality.
I was dying. This wasn’t some fun trip through memory lane; this was it. This was the finale.

I wasn’t asleep, I wasn’t dreaming.
I knew I was dead earlier but it seemed like the gravity of the situation finally hit me. Realization finally hit me. It was like I was mourning Rebecca’s death all over again. The reality didn’t hit me at first. I laughed, at first. I thought it was a cruel joke until finally after a day or two, I began to sob as I realized she wasn’t coming home. The person who helped raise me after my mothers death wasn’t coming home.
It felt like I was being buried already, beneath a mountain of pressure.
I felt like I was going to have a panic attack, and I knew I couldn’t have one anymore but it was still so scary. I was dead. There is no respawn button. I am dead.
After this whole memory thing, what happens after? Nothing.
Nothing happens after. My thoughts were already leaving, my memory from when I was alive, already leaving. I was losing track of time, and although it was a relaxing thought to never have to worry about getting up and doing a task, it was scary.

I remember some days I would sit in the shower and try to block out the noise of it. I tried to stop thinking and yet I could never do so.
Imagining the silence without my thoughts was terrifying because what was gonna happen? What would I do to keep myself entertained?
It was all so stupid to think about now. I could’ve thought about this before I walked straight to my death!
I wanted to grumble, to cry, and to swear at myself.
I was stupid for thinking of it now! I’m dead! I can’t take back those choices that lead me there! I can’t panic now, it’s all my fault anyways!

If I could, I would toss my head, throw it side to side. I could feel my head but I did not know if it existed here anymore. My head was hurting, like someone had tossed a dodgeball straight at it except the pain was amplified by a hundred times.
I couldn’t feel it clearly but I could still identify it. It was just like the tearing feeling in my body.

Without thinking, I opened my eyes once more.

I was met by a man tackling me to the ground. His arms were strong as they took me down. I let out a gasp of air as I slammed into the grass. My eyes darted back and forth as I searched for my attacker.
Only to realize, it was no attacker.
It was TJ.
And we were wrestling. I remember this as well. This only happened a few days ago. Except this was not fun right now, I could not find enjoyment in it. I know the body I was in a few days ago was having fun but I was not.
I could still feel that pain on me. The pain from my death, and I felt like I was suddenly filled with adrenaline as I threw my arms towards TJ’s chest. I felt like I was fighting to the death even though I knew I wasn’t even close.
This memory was blurry. I could see the darkness around my vision. I was scared and I could feel the emotions I felt conflicting with my old ones. I was happy, I was laughing but I was still scared. I was terrified.

I shoved TJ upwards and off of me, surging towards him. I got my hands onto his hood and began to wrestle him down before he grabbed my arms and pushed back. His strength was immeasurable against mine.
I never worked out in my life, I was always just scrawny and more pathetic in body mass. TJ was a unit, and he always spoke about working out when me and him would take runs. He said it was healthy and dragged me along with him. I always teased him during those times. I could remember what I said clearly
“Too scared to go alone? Afraid you’ll get attacked and need a strong man to protect you?”
I would comment and laugh afterwards. TJ would smirk and roll his eyes, look at me in mine and just smile after.
“Yeah, sure, if you want that to be the truth, dude.”
I knew he was stronger but I had never known he was this strong.

He tossed me to the side and I lost my train of thought as I was slammed back into the grass.
This wasn’t wrestling anymore, this was just full on bullying. He always got me onto the ground and I was never sure of how.
I gasped for air, trying to regain my position before his hands came crashing onto my chest and he held me down. I stared up into his eyes and grumbled.
Internally, my back was hurting but I could feel much worse.
Why wasn’t the pain going away? I could barely focus on the memory without it bugging me, scratching at me and begging for me to pay attention.
I tore my focus away from it and back to TJ’s eyes, attempting to find relief in staring at him. Find the same kind of relief that Suzie had gifted me earlier.

TJ was panting too, before he sucked in a breath, “Are you gonna give up now?” he asked quietly before pressing down on my chest, keeping me secure underneath him.
I let out a cough, mucus getting caught in my throat from all the rapid breaths I was taking in. There was drool at the corner of my mouth and I tried to put my arm up to wipe it only for TJ to grab it and hold it down. He wasn’t gonna let me do anything unless I complied.
“Fine- yes. You won.” I panted unsteadily before pushing up at TJ, trying to break free.
TJ shook his head and laughed, before sitting right down on me. He was determined to get me to say something and I was sure of it.
“No. Say it like you mean it. You won, TJ. Cry afterwards too, it’ll boost my ego potentially.” TJ said with a laugh, as if the idea of it was funnier to him than it was to me. I rolled my eyes.
I was not going to say, “I’m not crying, that’s weird, dude.” I retorted and pushed at him with my body, trying to heave him off.
If I had to admit, I admired his strength. His muscles were probably so refined compared to mine, and that made me jealous. I was the son of the richest man on the island, I deserved to at least look similar to TJ.
Maybe I should’ve used most of the money my father gave me in allowance to buy a gym membership and really give it my all. It was embarrassing to be held down so easily.

I let out a sigh, and nodded, “You won, TJ.” and began to fake a cry. Whatever worked to get what felt like 400 pounds off of my body.
TJ seemed proud of himself and tore away from me. He stood up quickly and let out a huff of breath before bending over to place his hands on his knees and try to regain his breath properly.
I remained laying on the ground.
I was staring up at the sky, suddenly bored. My thoughts racing from the little sparring session.

I felt like I was still fighting for my life though. Maybe it was the adrenaline still talking.
The gray around my vision obscured some of the things in the corner of my sight. TJ walked up to me and I felt like I was on the battlefield again, watching him scream for my life to be brought back. I felt like I was watching him check my heartbeat desperately one more time to try and see if it still beat.
It brought back all that pain I had felt. All that misery. I could feel it even if it was far off and it was just a brutal reminder that I was somewhere in a field, vacant of life. A part of me wondered what TJ was doing now.
Had he wiped his tears yet or was he still sobbing?
The logical part of me seemed to realize that it had only been probably a millisecond since I had left. TJ was most likely still screaming.
I tried to clear away the thoughts. I tried desperately and I blinked and I was standing up now.
TJ must’ve helped me up but I hadn’t seen it.
I had missed a part of my memory because I was too focused on the fact I was hurting.

I shook my head as TJ began to lead me away. I wasn’t sure where but it had to be back to camp.
“Are you sure you haven’t worked out or taken any fighting lessons though?” TJ enthused as I followed him closely. My eyes travelled from the trees nearby to him, and I shrugged as I shook my head, “I haven’t as far as I remember.” I answered briefly. I tried to quicken my pace to stay near him but he seemed to have a longer stride or something because no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t take up the spot by his side.
I wished I could take the spot by his side.
He snorted and smiled before looking back at me, “Really? Dude, you fight for a while! I was expecting you to give in as soon as we started.” he explained his reasoning for the question. He chuckled and kept going.
TJ had always been chill, besides from the whole Icyridge debacle. His personality was relaxing, and it felt like he was really trying to prevent me from becoming like Zavier. I appreciated it but sometimes I was beginning to think our friendship was fake because of it.
I knew it wasn’t but sometimes I just couldn’t help the doubt that seemed to swarm my mind.
Was he doing this for the benefit of himself? For other people? Or was he doing this for me?
I wanted him to be doing this for me because I liked TJ a lot because he was one of my best friends. I wanted to be his friend after all of this. I wanted to hang out with him and Suzie more afterwards. I wanted to take them to a fancy restaurant, pay for their meals, and talk about how the final fight had gone. How we had barely clutched the win and how we had all celebrated, executives included afterwards.
I don’t think that was happening anymore.

I nodded and finally, I began to take the spot by his side. He had slowed down for me which I deeply appreciated.
I bumped into his side, lightly. It was a bit of a teasing thing but he did it right back, a bit more aggressive but it was still affectionate. It was as affectionate as Suzie hugging me. It was a friendly affection that we all had begun to express to each other more frequently.
I looked him in the eyes and he returned the gaze before smiling widely, “I’ll race you back to camp.” He said slyly to me and I was about to decline his offer before he took off running.
I stood still for a second, before shaking my head with a smile, and began to run after him.

I ran until the world around me began to fade. I still tried to find him though through the foliage as the world turned darker and darker. I was determined to find him again. I was determined to see his face again.
I wish I could comfort you. I’m really sorry. I tried to yell, but no words escaped my mouth. I watched as the world finally faded.

I was greeted by the void once more.
The pain greeted me too and it was the worst greeting I had in my entire life span. It was horrid to think of. The feeling of it was closer now and I let out an audible groan.
I was in so much pain.
I had to continue though, I knew I had to. I wondered if the time I was “alive” counted as a second. If it did then I had probably two more to go.
Two more until I am nothing.
Two more until my brain stops functioning completely. Until the lights turned off and I was forever floating in a void in which I could not think or see. I ought to get used to it because this was gonna be my “life” for the rest of eternity.

I felt tired if that even existed for me anymore. I felt like my identity was slipping from me and the only thing I could remember about myself anymore was my own name.
Quincy
I didn’t wanna open my eyes again, the prospect of it painful to think about. I didn’t wanna end up in another memory where I’ll end up mourning for the person in front of me. Where I’ll feel sad and miserable that I left them to deal with a whole lot of grief.
I wanted to tell myself, “No! Grief is what it means to celebrate a life!” and the other part wanted to tell it to shut up and go back to being quiet because that didn’t even make sense.
I should’ve told it to shut up like I did Suzie, Player, or TJ many times before, Portia a thousand.

I didn’t open my eyes, they were forced open. It felt like this time.
The light just jumpscared me, it surrounded me so quickly and I didn’t even get time to adjust to it.

This time, I was a child again.
A clear difference from the past few memories that had taken place around my current age. The only difference from that was the first one.
I don’t remember much about the first one.

The light I had seen was a streetlamp.

I was in a car again. I was tired and half asleep. I was small, very small. Portia was leaning against me, sound asleep besides me. The sun was long gone and I began to wonder if I had missed bedtime.
This time, my father wasn’t driving the car.
It was Lucas, driving with Rebecca in the passenger seat.
They weren’t talking, at least I don’t think. I couldn’t hear them. My mind was going in and out of sleep, my eyes heavy as I watched them look back and forth between each other.
I wrapped one of my small arms around Portia and held her close, trying to keep her there in hopes of using the top of her head as a pillow.
I remember that though.

Whenever me and Portia went to bed, we always seemed to find ourselves in each other's bed. We were equally scared of the dark but I guess when you’re both together, it makes it bearable.
I remember my father describing it to me when I was older. He had been talkative that day.
Apparently he would find me fully suffocating Portia sometimes by accident. I would’ve been using her as a pillow or bed of some sorts and lay full on top of her in my sleep.
I thought it was weird at the time.
Mainly because it was the beginning of me and Portia’s shift away from each other. When we began to see each other as mutuals rather than best friends.
But now I realized how I should’ve been laughing about it, and talking to Portia more. If I knew I had one more year only left in me, I would’ve apologized and sorted things out.

I didn’t though. I never did. I was selfish and I realized that because I had time to do it.
I shouldn’t apologize just because I was dying, my time was limited. I should’ve had a talk with her and apologized before I knew my life was over. A mistake of mine that I could not repair.

I moved my head down and onto Portia’s, she protested slightly. A small whine that seemed to indicate that I had probably pulled her hair somehow. I yawned and tried to get comfortable, the seatbelt keeping me contained. What was good was that Portia at least had chosen the middle seat so it was easy to cuddle up to her.
I felt my eyes close and the next moment I knew, I was being pulled out of the car. Gently.

My eyes fluttered open just barely to find myself being cradled protectively by Lucas as he carried me away to the apartment, “Do you need help with her, Rebecca?” He asked his wife calmly, turning back for a second to check on her.
“I think I can handle my own daughter, just fine, Lucas.” Rebecca snorted back before giggling and following after Lucas. I could just barely see how Portia was being held. It was unlike my cradle and she had her head propped up on Rebecca’s shoulder.

I buried my face into Lucas’ chest and he brought a hand up to run through.
I was treated like this by my father of course, but sometimes these interactions felt like I was in his arms.
Lucas treated me like a son. Sometimes when I was older I wondered whether Charles, Lucas, and Rebecca were all in some poly relationship and they just cared for the both of us like we were their blood children.
I would definitely miss times like these when I finally left forever.
I would miss Lucas or Charles carrying me up the stairs and yapping to whoever was behind them while I was half asleep from being picked up from the car.
I liked the childhood youth I had where I was spoiled even more rotten than I was as a teenager. Where everybody watching over me would love me and give me things when I asked.
I was older, nobody did the love thing but they gave me things most times when I asked.
Mainly because they were all butlers.
But I digress, I was loved.

I moved my head slightly away from Lucas’ chest as he reached the room, he needed to hold me with one arm as he unlocked the door. He nudged it open with his foot afterwards and tried to get me in as carefully as possible.
Rebecca followed afterwards of course, almost tripping over a loose toy on the floor. In which the two parents had a laugh before continuing to Portia and Quincy’s shared bedroom.
I could feel the mattress press against my back as Lucas set me down and began to cover me with blankets.
I felt at peace as he tucked me in tightly. The dark was a bit scary but I could see out of the corner of my cracked eye, Rebecca turning on a soft glowing night light nearby. I turned to look towards the wall, cuddling up against the blanket.
I could smell that it had been freshly taken out of the laundry some time ago. Dad must’ve done it for me while Lucas and Rebecca took us to go have fun for a day.
I smiled giddily and tried to fall asleep, thinking about the stuff I’d get to do tomorrow.

As soon as I slipped away into sleep, I awoke almost instantly.

The pain was unbearable and I tried not to pant. Could I pant?
I was probably panting somewhere.

My heart felt like it was being ripped in half, my stomach being torn to pieces alongside it. My brain already mush.
I felt that fear from before begin to haunt me again.

Was that the 5th? Or the 6th? I couldn’t remember how many had come before it. I had given up trying to count.
It was over.
I lost, it was game over.
It felt like I was having a ton of dread for something I had accepted at the beginning of this weird trip.

I wanted to curl up into myself, go back to sleeping in my bed with Portia across the room from me but I know well enough that I wasn’t going back.
It was a horrifying realization and every time I began to rethink my choices, that pain began to worsen.
It was like my body knew it was over because the pain wasn’t far away anymore.
It was here. It was here and it wanted me to know that. If TJ hadn’t revived me, I probably wouldn’t have had to think of it but it was tearing into me and it was splitting me in half. It was breaking bones and it was hurting.
It hurt badly.

I wanted to cry like a lost child, scream until someone helped me, call a butler to pull me out of this mess I was in.
I wanted Portia to annoy me to the point where I snapped out of it, I wanted my dad to tell me he loved me and hug me, I wanted Suzie to hug me, I wanted TJ to play stupid games with me while we waited for food to be cooked, or for him to use every ounce of energy to save me again, I wanted Rebecca and Lucas to bring me home after a long day…
I wanted to live and that was not a possibility.
I wanted to fight death and I knew I couldn’t anymore because I wasn’t even given a chance to fight it.

It was stupid how fast my life had been ripped away from me, all because some guy couldn’t just go to therapy and get himself checked into a hospital. All because someone had wronged him a few times.
People had wronged me too but I had forgiven them instead of causing the world to fall.

Maybe if Joseph was the one under that boulder, he learned that life had so much more to offer than just the bad parts.
Maybe he had learned that he had overlooked the good parts, and had favored the bad ones instead.
Just like I had.
I had changed recently but that didn’t mean I hadn’t had a long process to do so, that I didn’t fight for every part of it. I was too stuck only maybe a few weeks ago to realize I was missing life by reserving myself to the higher up people. I was missing out on the people who had fun, who made friends.
The only friend I had until a few weeks ago was Reginald.
I was shown the times I had remembered as dear to me, the times I would think back on if someone told me, “The world is a shitty place” because yes, it was but I had fun in it.
I lived in it and that was the greatest gift I could’ve been given by my mother.
I had moments in my life that I remembered fondly, and that is a gift to be able to do.

The pain throbbed uncontrollably in my head and although I was terrified, I opened my eyes again for the last time I would.

I was met by my mother, sitting in a hospital bed. Staring out an oddly bright window.

I didn’t interrupt her, I didn’t make a sound, but I could feel my body aching, begging to just collapse to the ground and go. Unlike other memories, I could tell I was wounded. Mortally.
My eyes caught on my mother, and I could see her features. Not all of them. I couldn’t make out her face.
Probably because I didn’t remember it anymore.
Unlike the other times, where I was age accurate to when the memory had taken place, this time it wasn’t at all.
I wasn’t a 3 year old visiting his mother at her deathbed, as she wheezed and said a goodbye.
I was 17, visiting my mother at her deathbed, dying and she wasn’t wheezing anymore, I was.

“Mom…!” I called out, my cry sounded more strangled than anything. Like the air was being forced out. I tried to desperately shamble over as quickly as I could but I could feel the wear on my poor body. It was tired, it was screaming, and I was ignoring it as I edged closer to her. Her blonde hair looked just like mine.
I wheezed, and I coughed as she turned to look at me.
Her face was just a blur.
But still, I found comfort in it. I found comfort in that blur because that blur was my mother.
And I had missed my mother so terribly.
“Woah! You’ve grown a lot!” She exclaimed to me and I just found myself collapsing at the very end of her bed, groaning out in agony. I threw my face into the bedsheet and let out a violent cough before lifting my head back up. There was blood.
The more I looked, the more I saw on my clothes. I couldn’t see the entry hole, or the wound itself but I could tell that I was injured.
And I was terrified, because that meant I was really dying.

My head shakily looked at my mother, where her eyes should be and I opened my mouth. I gagged a bit before finally gathering the words.
“I’m scared.”
And that was all I could mutter. Of course I wanted to say more. But my brain was hurting and the urge to speak was losing itself inside of me somewhere. Draining out a puddle into my body loosely, it was alongside my thoughts as I felt the last ones urging towards that hole to leave as well.
My mother shook her head and I could practically feel her smile on me.
She proceeded to chuckle, softly. Like she was laughing at a stupid comment but also how I would chuckle when I thought something was cutely dumb, “You’re not scared, Quince. You’re just startled.” She said quietly before her demeanor changed when I frowned.
“But, I understand. It’s scary at first, but once you relax, it’s peaceful. The nothingness of it all. The thoughtless journey through time. It becomes normal. You become used to it.” My mother proceeded to explain to me.
She let out a sigh, and it sounded quite sad.
A part of me though found that peace in what she said though. Without thoughts I wouldn’t have to worry anymore.

I don’t know why but my body carried me upwards onto the bed.
Like a child who was scared to sleep in the dark without his parents; I crawled to my mothers side. My arms were shaking as I went, they were weak. I could feel them wanting to give out.
She didn’t say anything but she opened her arms and welcomed me in as I came crashing into them. Her hands found their way to my back and hair.
I began to breathe jaggedly. It felt as thought my oxygen was being sucked away.
But I didn’t close my eyes as I settled against her.

“What happened to them? To TJ? To Suzie? To Player? …To dad?” I asked briskly before letting out a pathetic wheeze. I coughed harshly and blood came out of my mouth and onto my hand.

“I don’t know, Quince. Whatever makes you more comfortable to think about. Let’s say, they survived. They will mourn you but they survived.”
She answered. I could hear her voice beginning to fade from me.
Her hands were soothing though. The pattern they found was almost familiar.

I didn’t say anything for a while, the pain was everywhere now. It hurts to mutter out anything and it hurts to think.
Blinking began to feel like a chore. Like whenever I blinked, I wanted to keep my eyes shut instead.

“They survived.” I muttered out to try and comfort myself before coughing violently.
It was just more blood but I tried to calm myself down regardless. I tried to close my eyes instead.
This pain was not something I could live with any longer and my body knew that.
I looked up at my mother for a final time before letting out a quiet sigh,

“I love you.”
I could hear her respond in the background but I didn’t worry about it anymore. I couldn’t hear what she said properly anyways, it was all fuzzy in my ears.
I was still worried, but it wasn’t my problem anymore to worry about.
My friends were strong, I knew they could do it without me. They were amazing.

I closed my eyes and relaxed.

How lucky I was to have seven seconds to relive some of the most relaxing and fun times of my life.
How lucky I was to be able to experience those moments.

How lucky I was to live.