Remembrance

Amaya Thorne 03/16/05

The night winds breeze floated through the hotels busted out window. The pasts were echoing maliciously into her dreams. The deathly cold seduced her body as she entered into the depth of dreamland. The cold could never reach her there, the depths of her subconscious where only the soul consuming flames of guilt survived. Tears formed under her closed eyelids. Then it came, the ghost of her past in which she would never escape because she refused to let herself forget. Night after agonizing night the dream came, her torment, her nightmare, her past.

The building rose against the blackness of her eyes. A small child stood outside it, the fear and denial of expectancy coursed through her eyes as the tears flowed uncontrollably. Tattered and bruised she stood shaking to the core.

"What is wrong?" Anya called to her knowing all to well the answer, for she and the child are one in the same. The smell comes then overwhelming her with its sulfuric burn. Anya and the child become one; her experiences are Anya's again. Anya felt his hand upon her bruised shoulder and looked up into his eyes, at one time he was her mentor, and then her father, but now he was the devil. His eyes cold and distant they both knew what was going to happen and it did, the explosion of hot glass shattered across her backside as the earth revolted beneath her. Then they came, the screams of pain, the screams for help, of the ones trapped inside the sweltering hellhole. Anya's hot tears withstood the blazes licking flame and then he walked away into the night, letting his disciples die in the carnage.

Anya woke up screaming, her body coursing with the flames of her mind. Soothingly she reassured herself he is dead and will never again hurt anyone. There she quoted repetitively the quote of her renewal to never forget. "I evaded nostalgia, tried hard to forget. But one does not forget by trying to forget, one only remembers." Richard Rodriguez.