Troubled Consequences

I skip into the kitchen where everyone else is patiently waiting for me, the two boys having an argument over something I'm not quite in earshot of. The kitchen has a big archway entry that towers above me, which leads into the living room; the elegantly detailed trim is glittering but slowly chipping away from the use. It's but a fraction of its once former glory, yet it still holds true to the fame it may have once gleaned. Clementine is the only seated host, picking at an old, worn, brown table as Dijack and Steel continue to argue (which I can now fully eavesdrop on) over how to cook eggs. Them arguing over something so simple that it's almost impossible to not laugh at.

"Hey! Syl–!" Dijack's voice breaks through the air and cuts itself short when he realizes the mistake he just made. Everyone glances around at each other in the awkward silence that follows, my voice stuck in my throat as I come to understand who he was hoping I was, what he was expecting from me; the world in my head he was anticipative that I remember. I stand, meekly waiting for someone to speak and sanguinely clear the air. Finally, after a few minutes of quick glances back and forth between the group, he sinks to the floor in despair and defeat. I smile softly at him, wondering if there is really anything I can do at this point to help him, to support any of them, or if my presence overall is just going to be weight over their hearts.

"Sylvia. That is my name. Did you forget, silly?" I joke, my childish but endearing attempt to lighten his mood and put his restless soul at ease. "Luckily, I still know how to cook!" I snicker. Steel chuckles along to my cheesiness, most likely also trying to do his best to assist me with putting the pieces of this life of mine back together, and Dijack sighs, noticeably unable to hold in his smile.

"That would be a huge help. We obviously don't know what we are doing." Steel mutters as he elbows the boy next to him.

"Excuse me! I know how to cook!" he grumbles in response, primarily to himself. I end up cooking breakfast, which everyone thoroughly enjoyed, of which I blame that they probably haven't been eating the best these past months. After the feast, we all crowded on the same couch, staring forward at a plain, lightly painted yellow wall. This wall, too, must have at some point been a majestic beauty, adorned in jewels and works of art, but is now chipping away each day, the wallpaper no longer hugging against the aged paint. Dijack said we would watch a movie, but there is nothing to watch it on. The wall is void of any screens, and even pictures, a blank canvas. "Everyone comfortable?" he asks, bumping his shoulders into mine in a questioning manner.

"Yeah, yeah. Now, hurry up! I'm getting old here!" Steel groans loudly.

"What…" I manage out before getting distracted by the shiny box Dijack pulls out of his pocket. It's essentially identical to a Rubix Cube without all the colored stickers. It's made of polished glass that you can't see through and doesn't reflect. Dijack twists it several ways before tossing it to the floor at his feet. My hands fly up to cover my face in anticipation, though I'm not too sure what I am protecting myself from.

Dijack's hand comes up to envelope one of my own. I stare at him through my digits, surprised and slightly curious. "Don't freak out," he murmurs. "It's actually really cool."

"Freak out? What do yo–?" That's when the box explodes soundlessly. All I can see is darkness because my eyes instinctively snap shut. Dijack squeezes my hand and pulls me closer.

I can feel his arm enclose around my waist reassuringly, his lips brushing my ear, seemingly accidental. The feel of his lips sends a bolt of energy down my spine, his breath hot and muggy against my ear as he murmurs in a low, silky tone. "Don't freak out…" I know this was meant to abate my fluttering nerves, but the gesture only managed to fluster my very being, and it took every ounce of control I had to sit still. I open my eyes to witness the technology he had to offer with his guidance. My jaw hangs open as I behold what evidently is outer space. The room appears to have increased in size; we are still in the living room, but at the same time, we aren't. It looks nothing like it did before. I can see that everything is jet black and golden sparkles glitter the sky to resemble stars. Dijack's hand shoots up and waves through the air, causing a golden streak of light that follows the path he creates.

It ripples like waves as if a raindrop has fallen into a puddle of water. I am unambiguously astounded and engrossed in this unique space inside of a box. My elation has bubbled over as I take in everything around me. Is this the kind of world I lived in?

I admire Dijack, the glittering gold lighting up my eyes evermore. He chuckles happily. "You're not in the least bit scared, are you?"

"Why would I be scared? This is amazing!" I cheer, throwing my hands in the air. My eyes widen as I watch two ripples flow from where my hands paused. They crash and overlap each other, washing further and further away until the waves became too small for me to see.

"I wish I was this excited…." Steel whines as he watches me, shaking from anticipation and curiosity. Clementine nods along with him, agreeing silently.

"Movie! Movie! Movie!" I chant, slowly increasing the volume of my words. Dijack's arm around me tighten as he tries his best to contain my thrill and keep me from leaping from the couch.

"Careful, we are still in the living room." he laughs.

"Well then, hurry up!" I groan impatiently.

"Okay!" he replies, finally relaxing into the couch, no longer worried about me. He looks over at Steel with a smirk placed smugly on his lips. "It's your turn; you're the one with the glove." Steel growls lowly at his remark before wrenching something out of his pocket.

"Do you guys just carry this stuff around with you?" My eyes focus on Steel intently, watching his next move in apprehension.

"Well, yes. It's useful." Dijack purrs, his lower jaw nuzzling against my cheek. It is a very loving notion and plants a seed of anxiety in my stomach. Was he… just a friend?

He wraps his other arm around me and gives me a compassionate squeeze. I try not to flinch away, my flushing cheeks undoubtedly noticeable and the confusion on my face becoming harder to hide. It's clear that he was pretty comfortable around me at some point, and I don't want to ruin that for my future. I don't want to obliterate the relationship that was here before… whether I remember or not. I giggle back at him, uncertainty fluttering through my brain, as I lift a finger to poke his forehead.

"Just because I cooked breakfast doesn't mean you have permission to cling to me like I'm your favorite puppy." I tease him. He gives a sigh as he continues to hug me close to him. Through these simple actions, I can tell that he has missed me greatly and that he must have feared dearly for my life. I begin to hope that I may be able to replicate his feelings to give back to him through this passion he has for me. I owe it to him. "Why are you in such a good mood?"

"He's always like that after a hearty meal," Clementine murmurs, almost silently, as she watches Steel struggle to pull a dense object over his fingers. She's smiling warmly, her eyes never straying from his face. Steel is currently struggling with a very thick, black glove with fixed metal plates on the knuckles that light up blue every few seconds. On the fingers and palm are some pads comparable to a dog's paw. I smile to myself, leaning into Dijack ever so slightly to fight away the cold that's beginning to bite at my skin. Something about that is familiar and terrifying.

Steel gives a cocky grin as he coaxes the glove onto his hand. "You're not allowed to complain about the movie I pick!" He seems to struggle to hold back a smile. Clementine nods away with him, agreeing wholeheartedly. She probably knows already what his choice is.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever…" Dijack answers back to the hidden question in Steels voice, which altogether goes over my head, distracted by my sitting so close to him to actually pay full attention to whatever Steel had been saying. Fist pumping the air, Steel gives a low, hissy 'yes!'

He kind of reminds me of someone I feel I was remarkably close to. The memory is buried in the bed of my thoughts that I can't seem to reach just yet. I can feel it, though, a strong sense of pride and love, a bond that couldn't possibly be broken by such troublesome amnesia. Did I have any relatives? From what I have witnessed so far, these people are the only ones I have. That only made the feeling stranger. Shivering, I glance back up at Steel.

He raises his gloved hand into the air, reaching forward as if he were trying to pluck something out of the air itself. His hand closes around the imaginary object, and he brings his hand back to his chest. Four screens appear suddenly and zoom into us, each taking up an equal amount of space. I flinch slightly and lean forward, only having enough time to read one of the titles on the screens before Steel points his finger at the one he had decided on earlier. It lights up, pinging in response. "Entertainment." This womanly robotic voice blared out all around me. I glance around, astonished by the sound surrounding me entirely.

The other three fade back into the background, and the glowing one enlarges, forming a cylinder around us. The ceiling and floor remain as the night sky, dotted by those sparkling stars.

The screen wrapped around us is white with lists and lists of movie titles I can't bother to try and read. There are just so many rows and columns that stretch out all around us that soon I began to feel overburdened by the amount. With an embarrassed but happy look on his face, Steel scrolls through the 'R' column with a simple swipe of his hand before coming to an abrupt stop. Words flitter by so swiftly that my eyes grow dizzy watching them. He didn't leave any time for me to examine the place he has stopped because just as the words halt their movement, he reaches forward to tap on a title, and the screen shudders, blinks and goes black. Nervously, I cling to the arm wrapped securely around my waist, not very fond of the now dark, enclosed space. It's weird that even the stars were affected by Steels' choice, having snuffed themselves out of existence; I can no longer see their fluorescence.

The darkness doesn't last long, and soon another screen materializes in front of me, the title "Romeo and Juliet" in golden, curvy letters that light up my pale skin. Dijack groans that same groan as me, but no other complaint escapes our lips, sticking to the promise from earlier. Well, it would have been perfect if Dijack hadn't muttered under his breath, "Not THIS movie…."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I manage to survive the entire movie without crying, cringing, or ripping my hair out, which is a particularly satisfying conclusion. Truthfully, I secretly enjoyed everything. It was the same movie with the same characters that I can recall watching at a much younger age, surrounded by peers and adults.

Same movie…?

What was I thinking about?

Steel now going rapid-fire mode about the movie, the play, Shakespeare, and anything else related to the topic. I mean, once he had started, I knew we would be stuck with it until he managed to bore himself. Dijack had gotten so annoyed by it that he had grabbed his boots and fled the house in search of peace and tranquility. Clementine, however, is still here, standing next to him and listening intently to his every word. I can't tell if she is intrigued or just humoring him.

He said some things that I found interesting to me, so I stuck around until eventually, he fled himself, excusing himself for work. He had talked straight through an hour! I drag myself down the hallway to the front door and stick my head out of the tiny crack I make in the opening. I stand there silently, enjoying the cool breeze. "Eek!" Squealing and jumping back, I notice the slouching figure at the bottom of the stairs.

Dijack is dangling his legs from the last step. He leans back and glances over his shoulder at me, his hair falling to the side, giving me a good view of his forehead. I tiptoe forward, clinging to the door frame. "What the heck are you doing?" I question him.

"I was waiting for Steel to leave," he answers, his voice unusually deep and sensual.

"He just left; why are you still out here?" I interrogate further, inching forward casually.

"I was waiting for you, then…." He twists around, laying his legs on the steps and continuing to look at me.

"Oh, how sweet…." I walk down the steps, stepping over his body and sitting on his legs.

He grunts. "Hey… get off; you're heavy."

I slap his thigh and look ahead of me. People are sitting on their porches, chatting, and having fun. Cars are blaring music as they fly by us. There are sounds of horns honking in the distance and people talking all around me. This place seems so peaceful and happy. "Now, tell me… What's the real reason you're outside?"

Dijack takes a deep breath, looking into the distance. "I wanted some fresh air." His voice sounds colder, deeper like he wants to drop the topic. I adhere to that.

"Dijack, what were we?" I get a glimpse of him as I say that. He flinches from the unforeseen change of topic.

"What –?"

"I'm not stupid. You should know that." I continue to keep my gaze on him until he finally returns it. "We were dating… weren't we?" I suggest calmly.

I shouldn't have said that.

"I came out here to get away from you," he says, ignoring my question. "I just can't stand the fact that you forgot everything; you forgot about us, about me… I know I should be understanding, but… I just can't. I cannot just start over with you, not like this. You'll have to remember or…" he cuts off and turns away from me, oblivious to my watering eyes. "You don't understand how upset everyone is. Steel left crying! Clementine must be balling right now! It'd be better… better if you had just died!" he yells, pulling his legs out from under me. "At least then… we could mourn you." I plunk onto the step heavily as his legs rip out from under me, tears flowing freely down my face. Better…if I died?

Dijack looks at me, his eyes widening slowly. He watches as the tears drip off my chin. His lips stretch into a thin line, quivering slightly in response to me. I should have known he wanted to be left alone. I should have known that I would be such a bother to have around. I should have known…

Should have known what? That he'd rather me dead? My lips part even though I have nothing to say. "I…I'm s-sorry. I…I did…n't…." he stutters, almost to the point where I can't understand him. I stand up frantically, my heart thumping loudly in my chest as the sobs choke me. He stands up too, fists clenching at his sides. He's gritting his teeth, and I can't tell if he's angry or upset with himself. I'm afraid that he'll snap at any moment. "I… I'm sorry. I just can't stand looking at you… No! I-I mean…!"

The more he talks, the harder my heart thumps, and the more it hurts. The longer he stares at me with those impassioned eyes, those eyes that wish me gone yet love me unconditionally, the more I sob. I look down to stare at the boots by Dijack's feet. Quickly, as quickly as I can manage, I throw my fingers around them and yank them onto my feet, getting up and snapping my heels together with furious jerks. The boots rocket me as they start up, humming quietly and vibrating my feet, undisturbed by the atmosphere around them.

Without looking back, I launch myself off the steps, away from the house and away from Dijack. A girl screams behind me as I take off into the street. I didn't need to see to know who it was, Clementine. My heart jumps into my throat as I zip by a truck, its horn blaring in my ears as I manage to avoid it by an inch. I don't know where I am heading; I don't know what I will do. All I want is to get away from here. I can't stay any longer, can't listen to Dijack speak or watch his features tense from my presence. The ongoing battle in his mind and his heart, that was all my doing. I shouldn't be here.

I must get as far away from here as possible. That's all I can think about. He doesn't want me there; the man I had dated can't start over with me, can't stand me. His love of me is fighting his need to feel me embrace the way we used to. The thought that he might never feel that again. I hurt him with my thoughtlessness, and he hurt me with the truth. I shouldn't be here… I want to go home.

Home? What am I thinking? That was my home, wasn't it? I shake my head in frustration. Why am I going so slowly? Faster, go faster!

FASTER!

I crash into something, flying off balance and hitting the ground with brutal force. Ground? There is a shout and a multitude of other voices yelling all around me. I wobble to my feet, trying to balance out my dizziness. My eyes finally focus after a few minutes. The sky is dark, signaling me that night has come. I must have been out for hours. It hadn't felt like hours.

"Hey, ya dumb peach! Watch where ye're goin'!" Four boys around my age are standing off to the side. They look intense, glaring at me with a demonic look in their eyes. One is leaning against a wall, standing on a concrete floor. Each of the boys is wearing fancy clothes with shiny, expensive shoes; none is meant for hovering. I notice that we are standing on a sidewalk, next to a tall brick building. The boy leaning on the building is holding his arm in pain, growling lowly at me, which makes me assume that I am the culprit of his misery. He must have been the object I ran into.

My shoes beep a couple of times before they shut down with an abrupt shock. I struggle to stand up straight. "Dude, look at 'er face…" One of them whispers, not so quietly. Their accent is a bit thick, something I'd never heard before. Even though the words were off, they still sounded proper and elegant.

"Look like she be'n cryin'." Says another.

"Think she's 'urt?"

"Wonder what 'appened…?"

"… I'm a'right."

"…'kay?"

Their talking fades into the background as I stare down at my hands, lost in thought. Am I hurt?

I don't think I am; I can't feel any pain anywhere.

Have I been crying? Yes, but I don't know for how long.

When did I leave? I don't remember that; all I know is that the sun had been out.

"…come 'ome with 's?" Their loud voices bring me back to the present. I look up at them, and I can feel how heavy my eyelids are. I must have been crying hard. I can feel the exhaustion weighing on my shoulders.

"Come 'n, we won't 'urt ya." That is the boy I ran into. He smirks at me, and I recoil. What's that look? It isn't the look of someone trying to help you and only help you would give. I need to leave and quickly.

"I think… I need to go." I mutter softly, trying not to rouse suspicion.

"But why? We' only tryin' t 'elp." The one I ran into steps forward. He seems to be leading the rest of the boys. They are all grinning at me like a big, bad wolf would grin at a measly lone rabbit. I know then that stalling isn't going to help.

"No, no. N-no." I repeatedly stutter, terrified and overwhelmed. "I need to go. I-I'll go…" Knowing I wouldn't get far with the boots on, I bend over to tear them off, much faster than I thought I could, nearly ripping off the straps as I do so. I hold them in my arms and watch the boys, daring them to step closer.

"But…" He takes another step forward, and I take a step back. A cruel smile stretches across his face. In a panic, I run.

I run as fast as I can, grinding my soles into the ground as hard as I can.

Even with my speed, I know they are closing in on me. I can hear them thudding behind me like their shoes weigh them down. Grinding my teeth, I toss the boots behind me and keep running, hoping it will slow them down, even a little. I have a feeling I won't need them later.

My feet burn from the cement rocks digging into the sensitive flesh, having nothing to protect them from the impact of the pavement. Running for my life, as hard as I can, fighting through the pain and grinding my feet down, and kicking off repeatedly. The chill in the air burns my lungs, my throat, my teeth, my body, but I can't stop. I can't look back, can't turn around. Those men are dangerous; those men will do no good to me. Tears make their home on my cheeks, and my sobs stay restful in my chest; my blubbering only helpful to tire me out faster. Their heavy steps behind remind me of their evil intent and what will happen to me if I stop. Their cackling and their shouts, taunting and teasing me with the things they will do. And I begin to lose hope, to grow so desperate as their voices remain the same, not retreating into the background of this lonely town. There are no lights, no people, just an awfully hard sidewalk and my doom.

I manage to run for a couple of blocks, but at that point, my stamina runs out, and my knees buckle under me, tripping me and causing me to topple over. I slam into the cemented ground, barely managing to land on my hands and not my face. I cry out, trying to get up but not having any strength left in my legs to lift myself up.

The boys are laughing, having caught up with me. In this instant, I realize that I was never going to get away; they are toying with me. They could have caught up with me a long time ago. I've been running… running and gaining no ground. This is not going to end well; that is obvious. I can't see behind me, but their boisterous, obnoxious voices leave little to comprehend. Fear sinks into my bones as I pant continuously, trying my best to catch my breath. I am at the brink of sobbing, and my heart feels like it will burst from my chest.

One hand grabs me, followed by another and another. I don't even have time to scream before I hear my shirt rip. After that, my eyes widen, and I let it all out, bawling uncontrollably and hoping this unsightly seen will tarnish their image of me. I flail helplessly as I scream and plead and sob, begging them to stop. I try my hardest to free my hands, to find at least one opening to hit them, to smack them. But there are too many of them. I'm outmatched and outnumbered…

I yell at the top of my lungs and quake in disgust from the touch of their grimy hands.

"Help me!"