Dreams

Thinking

Mother… that word brings back memories

I had a dream last night that’s beginning to worry me in ways that I never thought it would. I thought that long ago I had stripped away these feelings and this burden from me, now it’s hampered my swing.

For the past ten odd years I’ve lived without worrying about my dreams, without worrying about my mother or feeling regret for her death. When I was younger I can honestly say that I hated my mother and she did nothing for me but…

For some reason I saw that incident again and I understood, she ran away from me. At first I thought she’d abandoned me, but not I see that I was wrong. The creature –which I only now realized was a yoma and not some crazed demon from hell sent to both damn me and be my salvation- followed her and gave me time to escape, an act of compassion I think but in honesty I think that she wanted to die…

She’s plagued me with these feelings, these thoughts, these memories… I’m really beginning to worry about these things… I want to see but I also don’t want to see… I believe that I am cured.

Miria spared a glance upwards, someone had called her… their fearless leader was tearing herself apart on the inside. They were supposed to be on the move, but with no sense or real headway, no way of knowing what was waiting for them in any direction besides that frozen barren tundra…

That drew a sound from her throat and she pointed at Cynthia weakly. “I figure you should pick what direction we go, think it as extra training.”

Clare gave Miria a look that seemed to bore into the depths of her soul and read all her insecurities as easily as an open book. Just that stare made her want to look away, but instead she just refused to meet her comrades’ gaze. “Um… Miria what’s wrong?”

“No… it’s nothing…” that had to be one of the only lies that she had ever told any of her subordinates ever in her entire life, a lie that was more directed to herself than anyone else. “Nothing at all… just a bad dream.

Now, only if she believed it the world would be a better place. It’s just a dream; memories of the past are meant to be buried in the records of time.

Clare noticed Miria was lagging behind them all, which was unusual in itself why would the fastest warrior in the organization even think of being anywhere but near the front if not in the lead. Helen followed her gaze and half turned when Deneve caught her arm dragging her along behind them.

“Now is not the time Helen, let her sulk. When she is ready she will tell us, I have that special feeling.”

“Are you sure it’s not gas?”

“Why in the… forget it…. Just forget it and speed up.”

Claws ripped at the now ruined wood that lined the floor, it stood over the man’s body snarling in delight and snapping happily at the intestines of the still screaming man as a dog (a metaphor for this world because we’ve all noticed that no dogs are on the island that serves as the laboratory for awakened beings) would a nice juice rack or ribs it scored for being a loyal companion.

The unnaturally long tongue licked at the floor with an almost human pride, it seemed to just love the entire situation, like he didn’t know a half human half yoma was waiting nearby.

On the instincts that had be pounded into her along with a permanent tan under that blazing sun and in the sand bleach white and bathed in ‘holy fire’, a hand moved to draw her sword, the claymore for which her comrades in arms had their namesake but froze.

Her hands were suddenly small and compact; in the center of her palm the scar from the original yoma attack wasn’t present. Horror engulfed her so suddenly and completely it froze her on the spot and her throat stuck. This couldn’t be happening again.

She was reliving the horror again… all again, that meant the man on the floor was her father and with the yoma’s nose covered completely in blood, caked over he couldn’t smell her, but if she so much as moved.

Up ahead there was a flurry of movement and a scream, with a thunderous roar it leapt up and was after the running woman in an instant.

Apparently the laws of the real world still applied because she ran after it, passed it up and reappeared before her mother just before the window. “Hurry, take my hand!”

Miria woke still tuned into the dream so much so that the world didn’t take form for a long moment, she could still feel the blood trickling warm and hot and sticky down her body and her arms instantly encircled her not shaking figure. She’s been screaming so she could taste the blood on her tongue, a coppery zing that made her stomach lurch.

“Oh god… she couldn’t see me… she couldn’t and didn’t see me…”

I guess I can say that I’ve come to terms with my past to a certain extent but I’m still not ready to move on… I’ll never be really read.

That feeling from before, the inferiority I felt for myself was in fact a great hindrance to myself, the unworthyself of mine doesn’t deserve what I was given, you’re life wasn’t for mine, my life wasn’t worth saving. It was an irrational maternal moment I guess, no matter what had pulled us apart, you had to save me, self preservation isn’t enough to over power that maternal instinct. If I can kill them all then no one will feel this emptiness that I feel. I can ease the emptiness in my heart by ensuring less people end up like me. I guess that was just some crazy delusion… you gave me your life despite all that had happened…

“Hmm…” Miria paused and gazed at the horizon line and smiled suddenly. I wonder… was that your face I just saw, or just another illusion of the past?

“She seems happier…”

“Yeah… but…” Yuma looked down different from the normal way, more sulkish if sulkish was a word.

“Oh god not you know! IS RANDOMLY SELECTED DEPRESSION COMMON AMOUNGST OUTCASTS THAT HAPPEN TO BE TRAVELING IN PACKS WITH PEOPLE WHO ARE INCAPABLE OF HELPING THEM IN ANY WAY! YOU HAVE TO THE COUNT OF TEN TO GET HAPPY YUMA!” Helen exploded just as something nearby exploded.

“Hey look guys… it’s Helen the Snowwoman…” Cynthia cackled as the now snow incased Helen gave Deneve a look that could melt all the snow in the frozen north.

“There all idiots…” Clare shook her head slowly.

Yeah, maybe Clare… but there, you’re all my idiots.