18. Sunrise & Moonlight

Song: I hear a symphony x pluto projector || Tiktok longer version mixup ||

Our dear old bloody friend, Anthony

The smell of cold, fresh morning air flooded my lungs as the grass beneath me pricked my neck and back. The smell of lavender and other nameless wildflowers engulfed me and the faint chilliness of the air caused my cheeks to flush.

I was dreaming.

To any other human being, it might not have seemed that way. The environment was so vivid and real. The meadow, the forest, the cold yet warm sunrise in the west. It was all so real. It felt real.

But I knew it wasn't. I'd dreamt it too many times to not know the difference. I'd go to sleep and end up here. Always. It was the same dream I'd had since I last saw her.

Ever since she left. Four years ago.

'Where was she?..' I thought; she always appeared in different times of the dream. Sometimes she'd be sitting right beside me when I came to and other times, I'd only catch a glimpse of her before I woke up.

It didn't matter though. By the time I'd wake up, I would already have forgotten what she looked like.

"You're here..." Her voice sounded like violins and harps. Soft and elegant. Ethereally lovely.

I turned to honey blond locks, that framed a sweet sprite-like appearance. She was wearing a blue dress that matched her giant summer-sky eyes.

"Unfortunately."

She laughed. The sound of harps and violins filled my ears. "Oh? And why is it unfortunate to see me?"

"Because you're dead."

"Is that right?"

I grit my teeth to bite back the tears."Yes."

"....So you believe her?"

I sit and contemplate it a moment. "She doesn't have any reason to lie..." I finally say. Remembering how clear and true her eyes had been when she told me. Before, I nearly killed her.

I suppose she'd gotten her revenge for that now.

"She has a thousand reasons to lie."

"Is she lying?"

She laughs again. "How am I supposed to know? I'm a dream."

I crawl over to her. My hair sliding over my shoulders and grazing the grass as it falls. "Are you?" I smirk as the space between our lips evaporates.

Eyes glittering, she giggles as I close the distance between us.

We tumbled to the ground and ended in a heap of laughter.

****

I wake up gasping for air. The smell of blood, my blood, creeps in the air and blends with the salt and stink of the city and ocean below.

Moonlight drips from the silk white curtains and the cold marble bites at my skin.

My hands immediately go to my abdomen, searching for the knife wound I knew would be present.

I couldn't find anything.

My hands fiddle over me. Roving, searching. Still nothing.

Had it all been a dream? Like...Anna?

I spot a mirror and hastily get up to reach it only slip and fall backwards into the pool of blood under me. I grunt as I hit the cold stone.

I get up again, carefully this time. And walk over to the mirror.

As I stand in front of it I gaze at myself. Dried blood clung to my shirt and pants. Some of it had even gotten onto my hair and plastered on my right ear from the fall.

I lifted my shirt and nearly fell over again. My eyes must be fooling me. They must.

I scanned the pristine white skin of my torso. Slowly, I touched and immediately recoiled.

It was real.

My scars were gone.

Boy! I'm back- what in the name of my father and his servants!?? Satan's voice filled my head again. His usual loud thrum had become a distant voice in the outskirts plains of my sanity.

My eyes were saucers as I stared. "I... I don't know."

It was impossible. Completely utterly mind-bogglingly impossible. Those scars had been placed there by my father himself and his cronies. I'd hated them for my entire life for what they symbolized. My weakness. My inability to best and be stronger than my bastard of a father. I hated them. Hated them as I hated myself.

Now they were gone.

I touched the place where my scars had been, this time not flinching. I grazed my fingers over it. I'd never been at such a loss of words in my life.

.....She did this, didn't she?

You went in my memories again?

Well, you certainly weren't going to answer any of your questions in your state.

I- I don't understand. Why would she heal them? Why would she try in the first place?

He sighed. Because even when she's angry. She knows how to fix her own messes. Unlike you.

The last thing I was in the mood for was Satan's chastising. My mind reeled, seeking answers. Reasons. I could find none.

"She really healed me..." I murmured, turning to see my back. Disappointingly, those scars hadn't been erased.

I gulped, my throat was horribly dry and my chest felt it might collapse on itself. I couldn't understand her. It terrified me. I nearly killed her - the night we met. She had gotten her revenge by nearly bringing me to my as well.

So why?....

*****

Yes, very short chapter. Shut up.