do you remember?

we go back in time, years ago, when everything was normal.

when everything was right.

—

flashback: an eight-year old keefe, sitting on his bed, alone in his dark room. "mom?" he called. no answer. he tried again, louder, and this time, someone heard.

"shut up and go to sleep."

"but, dad, where's-"

"i said, shut up and go to sleep."

so eight-year old keefe lay down in his bed, wondering what it must've felt like to be loved.

—

flashback: a teenage alvar stood trembling in the cold wind. he pulled his black cloak tighter around him.

"you're scared."

"i have a good reason to be. i can't miss my lessons."

"it's much easier for us if you just drop out."

"i can't—the vacker legacy!"

"don't bring up the vacker legacy. just do what you must." the figure leaped away, leaving alvar angrily mumbling to himself.

"one day they're there, one day they're not. never seen, never heard."

—

flashback: a heartbroken wylie stood on the streets of atlantis, watching his mother fade away slowly. tears flooded his cheeks and cyra's eyes weakly opened.

"wylie," she whispered, "i love you."

"i love you too, mom." and with that, cyra slowly faded from view. wylie fell to his knees, sobbing, wondering why on earth someone like him had to lose both his parents.

a warm hand was laid on his shoulder. "let's go, wylie." wylie wiped his tears away and looked up. tiergan gave a weak smile.

—

flashback: fitz bit his lip as he stared at the newspaper photo. "she's got to be here somewhere," he mumbled quietly to himself. a group of human girls walked his way, giggling, and he slouched lower in his chair.

he scanned the museum crowd, looking for the infamous blond. nope, nope... nope... wait.

his eyes swiveled back to the angry looking girl. she didn't look older than thirteen, so she fit the age range. wait... but her eyes were brown. that couldn't be right.

she caught him staring at her and glared. fitz walked slowly over. "you... you have brown eyes?"

—

flashback: eleven-year old biana slowly crept down the halls. she could hear voices in the room across from her. alvar was talking to someone.

she slowly walked into the room. "alvar?"

alvar jumped, said to his imparter, "i have to go," and turned around. his face broke out in a smile when he saw it was biana. "hey, miss bee," he grinned, opening his arms up for a hug. biana gladly took the invite and jumped into him, tucking her small head into his neck. "now, what are you doing out of bed?" alvar scolded. she laughed quietly.

"couldn't sleep."

"want me to tell you one of my girlfriend stories?"

"no, it's okay! bye!" biana jumped out of alvar's arms and sprinted away.

—

flashbacks remind us of what happened.

they haunt us,

they're stories of what life used to be like.