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I remembered everything. Every single second of that moment was replaying again and again in my head, like a movie I did not ask to rewatch. Your voice filled my mind everyday and your image haunted me every night. I was scared to sleep because I would probably see you bleeding and begging me to save you. Even though you had never done that, my brain liked to torture me with my imagination, so I could be even more desesparate. I did not want to relive this moment. Our battle. It was way worse than all my dummy nightmares. Thus, it was too late. Everything was too late. I could not save you, yet I could still feel your breath against my skin, our bodies touching, your hands around my neck, your lips pressed against mine, as if they were searching for something they could not find. Something I could not give.
I was staring at your dead body that had landered at my feet. Blood was staining your white costume previously immaculate. I tried to reach you, but they would not let me. I was held back, yelling, sobbing, while I was seeing your corpse being taken away by those creatures. I spotted your adoptive father - I did not remember its name - in the crowded public. It seemed like it did not care. Like its adoptive son had not died just in front of it, murdered by its own species. Because everything was easier for it. It only had to buy another kid and start all this again, while I was the only one to suffer. Yes, I won, but at what cost ? I had lost you, a friend. A comrade with whom I had grew up. I had spent my childhood, as your adoptive father spent years, with you, nevertheless I was ending up being the most hurt. Maybe that was the reason why I was so frustrated. Or maybe it was because you left me wih more questions than the answers you could have given me. Why did not you tell me anyhting ? You had always kept everything for yourself, why did I had to learn such a thing before your death ? That was unfair to me. I did not know what I was supposed to do from now on. You left me more lost than I was before. You left me broken and my heart would cry forever for you. I knew you would not set me free, because you somehow always loved tormenting me. And now, I would miss your teasings and our quarrels. I had never thought I would say this one day. Because I did not want to miss you.
The rain was pouring on me, but I did not care. I stayed still until someone carried me away with strength. I tried to rebel as usual, all I was eager to was approaching you. I did not want to leave you since it would mean forever. It would mean that I had definitely lost you. That you were dead. I did not want to miss you, since you were not dead. I bellowed everything that was coming out of my mouth, but I was carried further and further from you. Until I left the stage. I listened to the crowd applauding me for having killed my opponent. Of course they did not care. I did not care anymore, because I could not reach you for the last time. I could not tell you anything for the last time. Everything had happened so fast, and you did not even warned me. I wish things would have been different. I messed up so badly. I stupidely thought we had enough time. That I would get the chance to fix my mistakes. Ultimately, I was so damn wrong and so damn stupid. But everything was too late. Things did not have any importance now. They just gave me a gaping void rotting inside of me, waiting to spread out so it could break me even more. I did not care anymore. Because you were gone.
At present, I understood. And I was ready to give you what you had yearned for. However, it was too late. I took to much time to realize. The only thing I was able to do was reprehending myself for having been such a moron to you. I could not help but feel guilty, although I knew you would not blame me. If I had not been the scum I was, perhaps you would have been happier. It was all my fault. I was so sorry. I wished I could have tell you how much.
Despite all the mistakes I may be able to fix, what I really desired at this moment was all this pain to stop.
I opened my eyes, which was weird because I did not want to. I hear voices all around me, even though I did not understand a thing. The words made no sense. My body was heavy and I could not make a sound. Finally, I saw the blurry ceiling and heard a voice that was asking "Where are you looking ?". I blinked just for you to appear. I knew it. I knew it was an illusion. You were dead. But how could you blame me ? You seemed so real. You were staring at me with your red iris, as if you were waiting for me to respond something. No matter how much I wanted to talk to you, I could not. So you just greeted me. "Hello."
I was stomached and my eyes widened in shock as your image was becoming netter. You looked so beautiful with your messy dark hair, your hand under your chin, your snaggle tooth wrapped in a smirk, and your squinted black eyes, like you were laughing at me, which was strange too, because you had never made fun of me. You were wearing the exact same clothes as last time. Though you were wet, as if the rain had died with you. Unlike me, who was sweating, stinking and had dirty hair because I had never had the courage to cut it, you had always managed, somehow, to remain gorgeous.
You stepped closer, always with your hand under your chin and your stupid smirk. There was one face I did not want to see. Yours. All because I still felt so guilty to look at you in the eyes. I could not help but blame myself for your death. I should have done something, anything, to prove you that you meant a lot to me. More than I thought that you thought. On the other side, I hated you for leaving me in this state, when you could have talked to me earlier. I was so lost, I did not even know if I loved or hated you at this point.
People who seemed to have saved me were looking at my body and saying things, but I could not even understand what they were saying. Beside me, you chuckled. "A child who is nothing but a burden." It was rude and I knew you were teasing me, though it still hurt. I also knew you were right, but it was harder to admit it than just knowing it. I was still traumatised. So well that I did not listen to the people around me. All I was able to focus on was you. The reason of my nightmares and all my pain. I then finally look at a guy who was bullying me for no reason. He talked about Mizi. I did not care about her. I could not even make eyes contacts with this seemingly friendly person for days. He just adviced me not to talk about her anywhere. But I was not listening, because you kept getting closer and closer. Until you kissed me another time. However, it was not the same feeling, not at all. While the other was filled with despair and recognition, this one deprived me of the oxygen I needed, and it felt like all the four walls were closing to crush me, exactly like my heart was split in a thousand glass tips scattered everywhere, making it harder to fix. It made my throat burn and I coughed to get rid of the feelings of your hands.
The biggest problem was because of the situation. You smiled like you enjoyed torturing me.
A guy warned me. "Oh no, it's going to hurt a lot. Really, don't use your throat." So, I could not speak. Which was logical because I harmed my own throat, but also because every time I opened my mouth, you shut it down. You grinned again, asking "Keep going ?". A flurry of emotions such as anger, fear and sadness crushed me in turn. They suffocated me. And I realised that I would never be free of the time you died.
After the wounds in my throat clumsily healed, I was nonetheless able to speak to you. "Get off me right now." You were leaned against my back, so well that I could feel your breath stroking my damaged neck.
"Are these you first words ?" you asked, laying your forehead on the back of my shoulder.
"So what, do you want me yo swear at you ?" I responded.
You raised your head, looking indirectly at me. "For old time's sake, I am going to touch you." And you did. While I was petrified, you wandered your hand under my t-shirt to reach my throat, the one you tried to choke. You leaned even closer, whispering into my ear. "Why didn't you tell me you hurt your throat ?" Your fingers were scratching my skin, making it stretch. It hurt. It really hurt. But the most harmful thing was your sharpy voice and your cloying words. I was suffocating whereas you continued to talk. "Be honest with me. You really have something to tell me. You're the one who called me, Till."
"No, I didn't !" I shouted, horrified. I knew I did not. You came by yourself. I did not call you. I did not. I did not ? I did not even know. Not anymore. I wanted this hell to stop, could not someone deliver me ? Or was I alone with my broken mind, with this artificial illusions ? I did not want to, I did not know anymore.
"I could cry with joy right now," you added, bending over to get through me. I felt your blood flowing on my clothes.
It was too much for me to handle. I was scared and tetanized. You were not the Ivan I knew, though it was still you. Your ghost had your voice and your appareance, but not your personality. Or maybe I did not know you as much as I expected. As much as you had known me.
My head spinned and my heart raced. Suddenly, everything turned black and I could not hear a thing before I felt myself fall.
When I came to my senses, an unidentified voice was saying "Ahhh, here we go again. Your neck is all tattered. I think we should take that off because it could be dangerous." I thought he was talking about my name printed on my neck. At this point, they could remove it, I did not care anymore. I did not want to be Till anymore. I wanted to flee from my previous life, to start it all again from scratch. Maybe that was the better option. But for the moment, I was stuck here. And fortunately, scratching the itchy spot and seeing it bleed was enough to keep you quiet for a while. Once I figured out how to shut you up, I was able to do some paintings and writings. I was slowly getting used to what felt like a parasite. A young but still insidious you was lying in front of me, your head half on my diary.
"Draw me," you ordered. "Okay," I replied.
"I'd have liked you to have drawn more when we were kids," you declared after a while.
"What are you saying ? I drew a lot." You seemed crestfallen by your tone.
"I didn't know that. Why didn't you show me any ?"
"Why showing it to an embarrassing party ?" I asked in return, keeping drawing.
"Ugh", you simply said.
I stopped drawing and moved my gaze on you. Then I straightened my head only to fall nose-to-nose with an older you. The child had disappeared. I asked my question anyway. "Were you disappointed ?" When you smirked, I took my words back. "Let's not talk." I looked back at my doodle, and only your smile was missing.
A year later, I even learned how to ride a bike. I asked the people who saved me to teach me something useful... and they made me ride this weird thing. At first, it was very complicated and the children were making fun of me. Fortunately, Isaac was looking after me. And after three years, somehow the nagging just got worse. The most annoying guy in the base kept telling me to "get a haircut nice and cool like his". He was teasing me by saying "Look at you, speedy ! Eating like a pro ! Make sure you eat enough. Yeah, gotta keep this energy up, right ?" I choked with my own food and looked at him.
Unfortunately and throughout all these years, you were always right here with me. Right now, you were staring at me, with your eternal hand under your chin. This time, you looked rather annoyed and were wearing all black.
"Don't bring the spray today," said Isaac, out of nowhere. "You won't have time."
"I wasn't planning to bring it anyway," I protested.
One night, as I was waiting down a street on my bike, wondering why it was taking so long and regreted not to have brought my spray, I heard a strange noise. A thud. Something scratched my ear. Scared, I recognized the caracteristics of a pistol ball, for having seen them crossing through your body three years ago. The bullet touched a lot of people behind me. I did not have the time to do anything. I could not save anyone, and I was too frightened to peek behind me after perceiving all the screams. Exactly like three years ago, I was not able to move. Another truth striked me as my brain realized that I did not change, even after all this time. I was still a coward, too terrified to risk his own life whereas I tried to kill myself a thousand times. I did not understand myself, why was I such an incompetent person ? I hated myself. More than I hated you.
"There was nothing you could do." Somebody was trying to reassure me while I was injured and weeping. With his hands on my shoulders, he added "You need to learn how to forget, Till. It's the only way to keep you from breaking..." I was clearly not listening. My mind strayed somewhere else, where you were sat behind me. I could feel your presence, as always when you were coming back. I heard you chuckle and ask "What happened to your ear ?" It pissed me off. I was hurting so bad.
You got closer, laying your hand on my neck marked with scars. "Did you cut it to look cool ?" you continued. The only times where you were that sarcastic were when I was wounded. And your dead body, acting all casual, trying to talk to me like you had nothing to worry about, was getting on my nerves. So, as your fingers wandered on my harmed ear, I complained for the first time of my life. "You saw me bleeding all over and never asked if I was alright, did you ?" You did not answer back but I felt your grip on my hear losing strength. You leaned your forehead against my back, exactly like the first time I saw your ghost. "Can't you say it first ?" you asked with a softer tone, almost gloomy. Your arms crossed over your chest, in the same clothes as when we were kids, you added "I wish you had said it first."
I could not move. I could not even breathe. All this time, I had never stopped to be egoist and never thought of what you were feeling. I only cared about me and my pain, never yours. By the way, how old did you die ? You were one year older than me, so...
I widened my eyes as I realized. And suddenly, I sensed your body becoming wet because of the rain and your clothes changed. You were now wearing the costume of your death. My mind was replaying the stage where we fought for our lives - where I fought, because you did not. You sacrificed yourself for me. Like you had always did, especially when I was not looking.
"Do you know how old I am now ?" I asked your illusion whereas I was lowering my head.
"... middle-aged." That was right. While I was only focused on myself, you had always known everything about me.
"I am older than you now," I simply declared. "I stopped growing a few years back. My drawings got better as well... and even the motorcycle..." I could not finish my sentence. Water was running down my bruised cheeks. I put my face between my hands, trying to hide all these tears. How did I not know ? It was like we went back to the old times, in the garden where we used to play. I lowered my head again close to my knees, my hands behind my neck. I knew you were watching me.
Since childhood, we were all lonely and missed someone. Why did not we have the word "family" back then ? If we had had that, maybe things would have been a little easier. Why did we understand the value of the things we had only when we lost them ? Why did some of us have to die for the survivors to miss them ? Why were not we united to face the hard times together ? Why did we have to regret all these things when it was too late ? I wished so hard we could remake the past. I wanted to change everything.
Suddenly, a memory popped in my mind. I remembered you giving me back my pencil that had fallen down. You were smiling. I did not see you smile often.
"Are you pitying me righ now ?" your ghost asked, and I heard surprise in your voice. "Is that why you're crying ? I'm not the one to pity..." I did not let you finish because I leaned forward, touching your cheekbones with my fingertips before hugging you. I felt you startled, so I talked. "I didn't know either." Your eyes widened. "Back then, you were like that too," I tried to say while crying because I could not stop. I was thinking of all the pain you had to go through while I was not here for you as I should have been. Because you had always been there for me. I had not been able to do the same.
"I never knew you were so scared." Scared of everything. To be alone. To die.
Your ghost turned into your child form, and you buried your face into my shoulder to, I knew it, hide your tears. Because you had always been like that. Unlike me, you had always hidden everything you could feel to care more about the others. About me. You had never let your pain show, neither complained once. That was why you were way stronger than me, even after your death.
And I never saw you again after that night, where you cried for the first time.
It took a while for my voice to return. Only I can explain the reason why. You would come back the day I would fall apart again. So, I decided to go after Mizi. Whatever childish love I had - it disappeared a long time ago, when I realised that I had always idolised the version of Mizi I wanted, because it was easier to love a pretty smart girl than facing the truth in regards to you. Mizi was just a cover that I took time to unveil. My true feelings were here, and they would not leave. Not after your death.
I had always been a coward, that is why I just felt like I knew what Mizi needed. I needed that too, and the only way to get it was by meeting her. We were a family. One day, we would met, talk about what we lost and share the pain only we knew. So that they could finally rest.
All because scars remember everything.