“Do you remember me?” The voice was soft. Unsure and hesitant. In front of him he could see the slim figure, hands twisted together with their eyes hiding behind thick, curly, blonde hair.
“I feel that I should,” he responded to the hazy figure. There was nothing around him, simply an emptiness that felt never ending. Everything was white, with the exception of the two people in the room. He could feel his own presence, but was unable to remember how he looked.
“It’s sad.. I’ve called your name so many times, but you never answer.” The voice dropped in a pitch, obviously upset. Their eyes searched for a hint of recognition, but what they searched for was not there. He was at a loss. Why was this person so upset to see his face? He couldn’t even recall his own appearance, let alone this stranger. “Your eyes tell me you remember nothing, but even so.. I’ll continue to call to you. Your heart will hopefully listen.”
He could tell. The voice was pained. “Just tell me who you are. Can’t you do that?” He was desperate now. Who was this mysterious person? Why were they speaking to him as if he knew who they were? Their hair was tied up in a large ribbon, but still their bangs covered most of the face. Still, he could make out a scar covering half the face. Was it streaks of red he saw running down their cheek? He knew he was not permitted to know who this was, simply by being told. It was something he needed to figure out himself.
“I cannot.. You know that as well, but if I keep calling.. You’ll answer.” There was something in that answer that brought him a heavy feeling in his heart. He should already know, but he did not.
“And if I do not?” he asked with the shaky unsure tone his voice had been holding back. He watched the scarred face, hidden behind most of its hair.
A pause of silence. For a moment he felt himself slip away, the figure in front of him falling farther away. “I will call until my voice breaks on me.”
The sentence caused a chored of recognition to hit inside of him, but that was simply it. He was sure that he had heard the same sentence before. Somewhere along his life and it had meant much to him, but when? He parted his lips slightly, ready to ask for more, but the person in front of him spoke again, turning to the side.
“I hope that you will wake to my voice.. If time could reverse itself, I would change things..”
It was a hard impact that slammed into his chest. Suddenly his face was streaked with tears and his heart twisted painfully. What was the meaning of this? Why was he suddenly crying over a simple statement? He found himself falling to his knees, unable to breath as the tears continued to fall from his face. What did this mean? The question continued to repeat in his mind.
He woke with a gasp, his body flying forward as he struggled to breathe. Carefully, he brought a hand to his face, gently brushing away the tears. “I’ll remember,” he promised with a hushed whisper, the tears continuing to fall as he tried his best to control them.
“I feel that I should,” he responded to the hazy figure. There was nothing around him, simply an emptiness that felt never ending. Everything was white, with the exception of the two people in the room. He could feel his own presence, but was unable to remember how he looked.
“It’s sad.. I’ve called your name so many times, but you never answer.” The voice dropped in a pitch, obviously upset. Their eyes searched for a hint of recognition, but what they searched for was not there. He was at a loss. Why was this person so upset to see his face? He couldn’t even recall his own appearance, let alone this stranger. “Your eyes tell me you remember nothing, but even so.. I’ll continue to call to you. Your heart will hopefully listen.”
He could tell. The voice was pained. “Just tell me who you are. Can’t you do that?” He was desperate now. Who was this mysterious person? Why were they speaking to him as if he knew who they were? Their hair was tied up in a large ribbon, but still their bangs covered most of the face. Still, he could make out a scar covering half the face. Was it streaks of red he saw running down their cheek? He knew he was not permitted to know who this was, simply by being told. It was something he needed to figure out himself.
“I cannot.. You know that as well, but if I keep calling.. You’ll answer.” There was something in that answer that brought him a heavy feeling in his heart. He should already know, but he did not.
“And if I do not?” he asked with the shaky unsure tone his voice had been holding back. He watched the scarred face, hidden behind most of its hair.
A pause of silence. For a moment he felt himself slip away, the figure in front of him falling farther away. “I will call until my voice breaks on me.”
The sentence caused a chored of recognition to hit inside of him, but that was simply it. He was sure that he had heard the same sentence before. Somewhere along his life and it had meant much to him, but when? He parted his lips slightly, ready to ask for more, but the person in front of him spoke again, turning to the side.
“I hope that you will wake to my voice.. If time could reverse itself, I would change things..”
It was a hard impact that slammed into his chest. Suddenly his face was streaked with tears and his heart twisted painfully. What was the meaning of this? Why was he suddenly crying over a simple statement? He found himself falling to his knees, unable to breath as the tears continued to fall from his face. What did this mean? The question continued to repeat in his mind.
He woke with a gasp, his body flying forward as he struggled to breathe. Carefully, he brought a hand to his face, gently brushing away the tears. “I’ll remember,” he promised with a hushed whisper, the tears continuing to fall as he tried his best to control them.
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