Nightmare

Run.

That word was repeated over and over and over again. The adrenaline was running through his veins. His fears are back and they are not going to leave anytime soon.

His legs carried him farther and farther from that fear but it felt as though it was only getting closer. Then they reached him: her screams, they echoed through the forest, bouncing off the trees and taunting him, telling him he’d never be able to protect her. He ran and ran until he came across her lifeless form laying on a stone pedestal, she had vines wrapping her body like chains.

It was his dungeon. The vines were symbols, symbols of time and fear and anger and sorrow. These emotions he thought, were his downfall. Yet his downfall was power, power and love. Love, the vines told him, held a person back in their unimportant lives. Yet, these maroon vines could give him what he wanted, power. But he not only wanted power, but he also wanted peace. He wanted self-confidence, he wanted people to love him, he wanted a right mind so he could think peacefully without the voices urging him for blood or death, urging for other people’s sorrow and anger.

Still, the vines could not give him what he truly desired.

Time was a powerful place, it passed by as though it was too fast for the human eye to process. But the in-between is horrifying, not even himself, a god, could stop it. But Time? Time could only tell.

She turned her head to look at him, her eyes dull and lifeless. Unlike when they were full of life, the stubbornness, the joy, the love, and even the fear for others were all gone. They did not show.

He has never heard her scream like that, but it was so horrifying. His chest felt like it was being ripped open by the blood-curdling scream coming out of her dead body. Her skin was pale, and he thought that if he touched it it would be as cold as stone floors during the winter.

And he was right.

His cheeks were dry, but they soon soaked and fell onto her painful expression.

Then it stopped. Everything stopped. Tears streamed down her face, her eyes no longer dull. They were full of sadness, even with the grief filling her eyes they were still beautiful. Her hand was being held by him on his cheek. His face burned with embarrassment yet it was still filled with love. He never wanted her to see him like this; succumbed to his emotions by just a silly situation, she was just a hostage after all. But he felt as though time flew by and they saw each other in another life. A better life. Not the wars, the bloodshed, or the sadness, they both yearned for the same thing; hope. Hope for a new time, a new place. But they needed to change for the better. Yet they couldn’t, it was just the way the cookie crumbles. But life, life is like Pandora's box. There is so much evil when you open it but one small thing, one small hope comes flying out and can change everything for the greater good.

Not everything was perfect, not everything is like a stupid fairytale you get told when you’re a kid. The dim lights just barely light up your room and your mom by your bed telling you short stories.

You’re gonna be okay, he told her.

Lies.

All he told were lies. But these were white lies. These lies tricked people into believing that they will be fine, and she believed it. She’s told many of these lies before until there was none left to tell. But she kept telling them even though she knows that he won’t believe her. It’s like history repeating itself, her father told her lies, manipulated her, but these were no good lies.

But he was here with her, on her deathbed. His hands in hers, it’s how she had always wished to die; lying in someone’s arms, one who cares for her, she knows it’s cheesy but she won’t admit it.

She’d never admit she loved him.

His views were different than hers, he was the villain, she was the hero. But, the villain would do anything for her, he’d burn down cities, get blood on his hands for the one person he loved.

He’d never admit he loved her.

She’d sacrifice herself for others, and he would fight till his last breath. He’d risk everything for power, yet she didn’t care for power, her pure heart shaped her mind, it made her do stupid things. However, his heart was plagued, he worked on his views of the world, focused on his anger for others, which drove him to the destruction of them.

At this point, vines were spreading between the two but when they touched him they burnt. His mind didn’t succumb to the vines, it fell apart for her. But she didn’t seem to have the same mindset. All that he had put her through, her mind still won’t let him in, she was still fighting for the other side. The vines didn’t like that, so she fell limp once again, feeding the red vines that wrapped the two lovers which sat on the stone pedestal. She went cold, a small smile still present on her face with the streaks of tears that were engraved on her face.

Her mind was finally at peace, but him? He was now a raging storm.

He woke up in a cold sweat, his bedsheets strewn half on the bed and half on the floor. His legs were wrapped in the covers. He was clutching his shirt as a bead of sweat dripped off his forehead. He was gasping for breath. Seeing her and hearing her like that was heart-wrenching. It felt like his insides were being rearranged. His breath slowed down after a minute of sitting up against his wall. He grabbed his mask from the table by his bedside and put it on, sighing with relief as he did so. He slowly gets up and makes his way to the door. He reaches for the knob and turns it painstakingly slow trying to not let a creak slip by for fear of waking up the other residents. It does not creak fortunately and he makes his way to the echoey halls. The windows bring in the dim moonlight outside and spread it throughout the stone walls and floorboards. He takes his time walking down these halls. Admiring the stars with every window he passes.

He finally reaches the door to the outside and walks towards the pier, gazing up at the tower that she was being held. There was light emitting from the barred-out window, relaxing him from his nightmare before.

His gaze goes back to the reflection looking back at him. He takes off his mask, watching it fall to his side. He had scars, scars from battles he doesn’t want to be involved in. Scars that show him how much of a coward he is. They show his victories, but they also show his failures.

He sits down and hangs his legs off the edge, his bare feet barely touching the murky water below him. He leans back, his back hitting the wood with a soft thump, maybe he would take her to the pier one day. Maybe even swim with everyone, his lover, and his friends. A smile makes its way onto his face, one day, maybe one day everything will be over and peace will make its way into their lives.

But next week when the election is over, they will leave at dawn, she’ll be home, but not the way she would have wished for because she will still be held captive. The votes will go into someone else’s hands, he can already tell. He looks up to the stars and closes his eyes, it was always so peaceful when he was out here alone. During the day, however, it was very chaotic. Everyone was yelling with joy and annoyance at each other’s arrogance. He soon fell asleep to these thoughts that plagued his mind, a smile still present on his freckled face. His forest green eyes that used to light up when he was a kid finally gained back the sparkle that was contagious when others saw his playfulness.