this is the scent of dead skin on a linoleum floor
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Around the bed, machines whir quietly, monitoring the life in you. You are sleeping; dark eyelashes folded neatly against your pale skin, thin chest rising and falling shallowly beneath the thin white hospital sheets.
You are dying, say the doctors.
You dream of paradise. It is warm, so different than the cold white room you remember, and the sun burns in the sky above you, and the sand is smooth beneath your feet. You follow the footsteps that dig in the sand, along the waterline, because that seems right.
There is a tree, and on the bent trunk sits a pale haired boy with tan, tan skin. He smiles at you.
"Hello, Sora."
You frown. Is that your name? You vaguely remember a crisp voice saying Roxas, but that voice seems so far away.
"Is that my name?
The other boy swings himself off of the tree and tosses you a wooden sword, the dull blade long. You catch it easily, and its weight balances almost perfectly, familiarly, in your hand. It's the first thing in a very long time that feels right.
"Don't play stupid," says the silver haired boy, but his tone is warm. He sets off across a bridge, his gait slow and easy. You follow him, trotting to keep up. He is older, obviously, than you, but only by a little. Still, it seems to set him apart as the more confident one. You're wondering why he's acting like he knows you when he swings open a door to a shack and enters, trotting down the stairs inside.
And then you're out in the sun again, and there's a pretty red headed girl dashing towards you. She nearly bowls you over with her hug and her dazzlingly pretty smile. "Sora," she scolds, "You never told me you were coming back early!"
You are beginning to wonder what drugs they put you on that are making this dream, but you're having trouble remembering who they are, so you stop thinking about it.
And slowly, all the details begin to fall into place. You are Sora, and he is Riku, and she is Kairi, and you are all best friends. This is Destiny Islands. You are fourteen years old, and so is Kairi, and Riku is sixteen and he's damn proud of it.
"I can't believe you're actually moving here for good," sighs Kairi, but you only grin and pretend you know exactly what the hell she's talking about.
"Hurrah," says Riku, his voice flat. Kairi smacks him on the arm.
"Riku!"
Riku grins at you, and you know he's joking. "Hey," he says, "Let's race to the star tree and back. Just like old times, huh?" You smile and nod, although you really don't know, because you never actually lived the old times.
But you run alongside him anyway when Kairi drops her hand, because you've never been one to drop out on a bet, and anyway you've always been a little too competitive for your own good. You're running as hard as you haven't been able to since forever, running and running as the ground churns up beneath your pounding feet.
You are leaving behind your memories.
But, really, Sora, once upon a time you were only a sickly little boy, dying in a hospital, and your feet were cold on the linoleum floor, and your head was heavy against the cold white pillow in that cold white room, where your body faded as you dreamt of paradise.
-----------------♥
HOMG.
i had so much fun writing this::
'specially the last line.
woot.
and, um, my iPod died while i dreamt of paradise,
last week,
so i went through a bit of a Panic! withdrawal.
damn.
standard disclaimer applies plus line from panic! at the disco ♥ ♥ ♥