Do You Remember...

“Do you remember…” Aline trailed off, running her sun spotted hand across the worn wood of the treehouse. It was soft with deep ridges. Each ridge reminded her of another time. Her curly red hair hung limply down in front of her shoulders and she brushed it behind her before reaching a hand back out to the wood. Her finger hit the hand carved initials. TB + AG. Her heart ached as she traced Tristan’s initials. Tristan Boreas and Aline Garcon. How young and naïve they had been.

             “Do I remember what?” The voice was husky and soft, whispered into her ear like a ghost. She smiled and fiddled with the pendant at her neck. It was smooth and warm with memories that were flooding her. She ignored the empty feeling it gave her as Aline padded across the wooden planks and listened to their soft creaks. The creaks were quieter than the sound of Tristan’s voice in her head. The treehouse had always been their sanctuary, even now. It was like the memory of him still lived here. She pushed back the tears that were fighting to get out and focused on the charred hole.

             “You burned a hole right through the wood with your lightning.” Aline laughed, sticking a finger through the charred wood. “You were so upset that we had to leave. Our last night.” Her chest heaved as she shoved the sobs down and swatting the tears away. “Before,” she muttered before angrily smacking the wood. Tristan wouldn’t want to listen to her cry. He hated it.

             She stepped away from the hole, blinking away the image of their childhood selves. But the picture of Tristan, tan face turned rosy with anger, lingered. It had been the only time Tristan had let her see him cry. He was always so strong, so much more durable than she was capable of being. How was she supposed to be strong? A soft cry let loose and she slammed her hand on her mouth. He wouldn’t want her to cry, she reminded herself.

             “I’m sorry. This place used to be so good to us. Do you remember….?” Aline trailed off again, lost in the thoughts of their childhood in this tree. Aline’s father had built this for her before he died. It was her last piece of him, of her life before. Her chest tightened. Younger visions of them ran in circles around the large floor, throwing up lightning into the roof. Her younger self had used her air to blow away the smoke and fire. She could always wipe away the destruction of Tristan’s power. She looked up at the charred streaks in the ceiling and twisted her lips. Why was this so hard?

             “Do I remember what?” A voice echoed. The sound slithered through her mind. Tears pricked at Aline’s eyes. Do I remember what? The words gnawed at her heart and her brain, trying to force her to feel, to remember. But Aline didn’t come here to remember the bad, she’d come here to remember the good. She walked to the open space where a door used to be and sat down so her legs could dangle off the side of the structure.

             “We used to watch so many sunrises from here.” She stared out into the distance. The midday sun was beaming down from above, lighting all the trees and crops with a golden hue. It was nothing compared to the soft pink hue of sunrise over the mountains that surrounded them. She let her mind wander back to the times that Tristan had woken her up when it was still dark blue outside, he always was the early bird, and dragged her to this very spot to watch. He always did love sunrises. She looked down at the soft grass below the tree.

             “Do you remember…” Aline mumbled as her eyes caught a dirty stone. The stone. The blood was still caked on it, never washed away after all the time. The bad memories started to flood in. Images of Tristan’s bloody head kept popping up through the sound of bullets that riddled the wood. The shells were what she used to ground herself again. The holes they made were still in the wood next to her head. She drew her eyes to the splintered, yellowed wood. The sun glinted off the end of a bullet that didn’t make it through.

             She reached out to touch it. She was waiting for Tristan’s echoed words. Waiting for Tristan. Aline had been waiting for Tristan for 2 years. But Tristan wasn’t coming back. Her stomach whirled and she threw up the fries she had managed to snack on when she drove over here. She heaved again but forced it back down. She’d come here to say her final goodbye. To make the last words he said stop repeating in her head.

             “Do you remember that day?” Aline croaked out, finally admitting why she’d come here. They found her, found them, before they had finished saying their goodbyes. She still didn’t know who had ratted them out. Aline didn’t care anymore. It wouldn’t bring him back. Nothing could bring him back. She touched the lightning bolt that linked them to each other. Its inky mark stretched around her ankle like an anklet.

             That’s what she saw when they shot him. He had tumbled from the treehouse and smashed into the rocks below. His twisted neck, body riddled with brass bullets, and the crack in his beautiful brown curls. It was matted with blood by the time she crawled out of the treehouse and saw him. Her Tristan, the sweet boy next door without a care in the world, mowed down by Hunters. The only thing she could focus on was the lightning blot on her ankle. The one that mirrored hers. Hunters who wanted to rid the world of people like us. People who were different. Aline’s fist clenched. She wouldn’t let them hunt down any more Blestema. They were her people.

“I won’t let your death be in vain,” She added out loud as if he could hear her. Tristin didn’t respond. She leaned her head back against the side of the treehouse and breathed out a sigh of relief. For once, she was alone in her own head. Tristan’s voice was gone, hopefully for good. She wouldn’t forget him, didn’t think she’d ever be able to, but she needed to have a clear head.

             She jumped off the ledge and landed with a solid thud. Looking over her shoulder, she whispered goodbye to her childhood, to her love, to her naivety. She had lost more than Tristan here. It was time she made good on the promise she made him. With her mind finally free, Aline truly believed she could.

             “I promise to protect those like us, no matter what.”