.catching stars.

—

There had been lots of fights in the house when you were little, but none had been as big as the one that happened right before the Peace was destroyed. To you, it had just been a fight. A wild and loud one. But a fight.

You would have never thought it would symbolize the end of freedom.

The time in which you lived was modern and cultivated. You would have never expected such cruelty or such violence from humans. Your first life lesson was learned through death and blood and fire and slaughter.

There was the life Before, and the life After.

Your memories of Before were starting to dim a little, as if it had been so many, many years since Then. Your parents' faces were blurry; your brother's was simply erased from your mind. You didn't cry anymore about those faded souvenirs. You were past crying.

XXXX

Your family and you were eating when you began hearing screams and gunshots. Everybody got up in panic and ran to door. You remember the four of you squeezing in the doorway to watch the gory show. Your mom hushed you inside, sheltering you.

The shrieks and the gunshots had replaced the music coming out of the radio. These sounds were no melody to your ears, but deep, deep inside, you knew they would have to become one to survive.

When a man grabbed your mother and killed your father, you only stood watching with wide eyes. When your brother was knocked unconscious and dragged through the dirt and the blood, you didn't move. When your father's killer punched you, you didn't fight back. When he tied your hands, the only thing you did was close your eyes.

The man shoved you forcefully; so, so, so strongly that you fell down on your knees, incapable of any movements.

You took a look at the scene unfolding in front of you.

You had seen such massacre on the television; you had heard gunshots before; you had watched wars.

And now it was so very real. Vivid. Impressive. Horrifying. Sickening. Sadistic.

The screams were too loud. The kicks were too brutal. The images, too maddening. Everything was too much

-shut up. shut up. shut up. EVERYBODY SHUT UP. just make it STOP.-

Suddenly, all you saw was darkness.

XXXX

The day you woke up, there was nothing left of your town. It was all ruins and desolation. They had burned everything.

Your eyes rose to the sky when you felt snow land on your shoulder.

But there was no snow.

The ash fell from the heavens --a statement of despair, you thought--, and it covered the remains of you childhood.

It was windy and cold. You were freezing. You only had a thin tee shirt on. It was your favorite one, and the front was caked with dried blood. You didn't know whose it was. Your father's? Or perhaps your next-door neighbor's. You sure hope it wasn't the sweet child's that lived --used to live-- across the street.

You were beaten and sore, and you were thrown in these pits with other people. Armed men guarded the exits.

They were normal looking men. For some reason, you had expected horribly deformed or alien looking men. They would have been so much easier to hate.

One of them followed your every move like a hawk. He yelled something in a language you knew, but couldn't make the effort to understand.

A soldier jumped in the hole and grabbed you by the hair. He brought you to the hawk man, forcing you to drop on your knees.

-i want to live. Pleasepleasepleaseplease. i want to LIVE.-

Your chin was grasped, and your head, brusquely moved to the side. Your eyes met the man's. Blue met green; misery met cruelty; life met death.

And it was the beginning of your new life.

XXXX

They put a gun in you hands. You had seen this type of weapon before, when the men had came and destroyed the village. This gun could fire several times in a few seconds; you knew it was deadly.

They told you to aim and pull the trigger at everybody who tried to escape.

You weren't stupid --you understood what they wanted of you; you understood that they wanted you to kill your own people.

They put a gun in your hands and told you to shoot at the prisoners.

Tomorrow would be your fifteenth birthday.

XXXX

The first time you pulled the trigger was to kill a guy who had lived five houses down yours.

The soldiers had decided to move camp. They would go raid new villages soon. You were still in the country, and had a long way to go before reaching the cities.

The man managed to detach himself from the line of prisoners. He tried to run, and you were the closest to him. They shouted --oh, did they shout-- at you to pull the goddamn trigger.

And you did.

-it was he or i. him or me. life or death. always life or death-

The guy --his name had been Rick-- fell to the ground, never to move again, and the crowd shifted anew.

You didn't stay watching the body for long. The sour taste in your mouth and the twisting of your stomach went away after a few hours passed. But the moment would forever be imprinted in your head.

XXXX

When you arrived to the base, you realized there was probably no hope for you to ever be free again.

It was a big remote city, and this time there was a jail. And there was a laboratory, which you were told not to get close to. You listened to that advice; the building was so, so frightening.

Your task was to make sure nobody escaped when they filled up the jail.

In horror, you hopelessly observed your brother and your mother enter the prison.

-so lively. her eyes were so full of life. she's dying. .dead. like everybody else. they're all dead.-

It was a year later when they told you to go to the laboratory. You didn't understand why at first --the only ones allowed in the lab were the prisoners. You weren't a prisoner anymore. You were a soldier, a combatant. You didn't like what you were doing but you only had one choice.

Life or Death.

When you arrived at the laboratory, you swallowed. You had never been this close to the intimidating building and it scared you.

You weren't sure you would come out of there.

What's your name, the guard asked you. You told him and he let you pass.

It was the first time in a year and six months and twenty-eight days that somebody asked for your name. When people demanded who you were, they asked for your number. You had forgotten the sound of your name.

It almost made you cry.

XXXX

The day you came out of the building, you didn't remember when you had gotten in. It was all fuzzy, and everything was confusing, and you only knew you were strong now. Yes, you were strong. You could save your family. But were they dead? How long had it been since you had last seen your brother?

When?

What was the date?

What was your name? Your number?

Cloud. Yes, you were Cloud; your name was Cloud. And you were number 6591. Six-five-nine-one.

You were dead, but still walking. No emotions, no motivation.

-should've have killed me. would've been better. death. life or death. survival. i killed a man.-

You asked another soldier about the date.

You had missed your nineteenth birthday.

You resumed your post with an eternal question that was never to be answered.

XXXX

It was in December, nearly five months later, that you were freed. It didn't come as a surprise to you. The power of the army was crumbling, falling to pieces before your eyes, and you had been waiting for that day.

When the enemy --but not so enemy-- troops marched on the camp, you hid with the prisoners. Those didn't know you; they were from another village. They didn't even notice you had taken a place among them.

Later, you all stood in line. You were to give your name and the town where you had been made prisoner. They would deport you or place you in a foster family. The air was buzzing with voices and cries and sobs.

You didn't see your family. You never heard of them again.

Were they safe? Or was your mother dead?

-my fault. useless. should've died. .dead. she's dead. he's dead. all alone.-

A shiver went through you. You looked up. The sky was gray with clouds, and somber. You saw snow fall. Your hand itched to reach out for the snow. It was pretty, oh, so pretty.

You finally gave your name.

You closed your eyes.

The fallen snow rested peacefully on your shoulder, and it was the beginning of After.

XXXX

They said the family would be waiting at the train station.

There were a lot of families at the station. You glanced around, uncertain and confused.

Would it be really worth it to start a new life? You had killed, you had sinned, and you had failed. You were the last one standing, but didn't want to anymore. It didn't matter. Nothing did.

You eyed the train's rails. Your face was contemplative.

-do it. Your chance. then you will be watched. imprisoned. DO IT.-

But it was too late.

Are you Cloud?

Her first words spoken to you, and they startled you so, so bad that you whirled around in panic.

Cloud?

Yes, that was you.

But it was only a name. A name attached to a walking corpse, you thought grimly. There was nothing inside of you; just a deep and very dark (oh, so dark) hole where the heart should have been. Oh, it was still beating; but it wasn't feeling.

Or perhaps, you mused, it feels too well.

Because the pain that invaded you when the mother and the father smiled to their daughter and said Welcome was so haunting.

Because the jealousy at the sight of the happy family was nearly killing you.

Because the bitterness when you entered your new house was making you hate the family.

Because the dizzy nervousness as the daughter smiled so very warmly at you made the butterflies in your stomach fly.

And because the silent tears that kept you awake all night were all too real.

XXXX

They wanted you to return to school.

Could you?

-act normal. i can't. i'm not normal. i'm a monster. i can't.-

You told them no.

They looked sad, but you didn't care. Nothing mattered.

The daughter --what was her name…Tifa?-- smiled like she always did. It wasn't a big smile, or a forced smile, or even a smug one. It was a small smile, full of life and happiness, and the sparkling eyes told everybody she was living the perfect dream.

-hate her. she's too different. she's strange. don't let her be close. no closeness.-

One day you went by her room and you heard sobs. You stopped. She was lying on her bed, crying and clutching her comforter. A phone was beside her, and she was dressed to go to bed. Curious, you leaned on the tip of your toes.

She raised her head and saw, but said nothing.

You stared at her with impassive blue eyes as you always did, but you could feel your lips ticking upwards, as if a puppet master controlled them.

You left her in her distress, finally identifying the emotion you were feeling.

Satisfaction.

The daughter --Tifa--, always so, so, so perfect, and so very beautiful, and so fucking happy was crying. Experiencing pain and having her annoying smile wiped off her face.

You had wanted her to hurt. You were satisfied.

But in reality, you didn't feel so superb.

XXXX

You don't know when it happened. The Change. You just watched one day and you couldn't stop.

You had to look at her when she didn't look at you. And you started remarking she was looking at you more often.

Was it a good sign?

The parents were unaware of the glances. They liked you. You didn't particularly like them. They were ignorant, and they set rules. There were no rules in your world. You knew what was bad and what wasn't. You had sinned enough.

One night, you and the daughter were outside, watching the black sky. It was full of tiny shiny spots. You got dizzy watching them. They were falling down toward you and Tifa so, so rapidly. You wanted to catch them; catching stars seemed the thing to do. So you took her hand and reached out toward the sky with the other.

What are you doing?

-catching stars. don't you want a star? it'll be a present. a gift. you will love me, then. a star. yes, i will give you a star.-

You saw them topple in your direction, but they never attained your outstretched hand.

I love you.

You loved her, too.

You gazed at her, but you had nothing to give her. Maybe she had seen you trying to grasp the star; it wasn't your fault they wouldn't fall to you. Yes, she had understood your intention.

-nothing matters. there's you, and there's me. the end.-

XXXX

When the parents learned of your love, they were furious.

You are brother and sister!

No, you weren't. They had taken you from somewhere; they didn't even know you had killed.

You were no brother and sister.

You were lovers, and you loved each other.

-enemy. must hate them. survival. they want to take away from me the only thing i love. love. tifa.-

To you, she was no longer 'the daughter'. She was Tifa; she was a woman, and you loved that woman. She kept you alive. You could still see the train, feel the air go by you, hear the chatter mixed with the engines. You were still tempted, but not so much.

Then, they did the unthinkable. They sent her away, and you didn't know until you came back from your work and saw all her things were gone.

Gone.

Your screams of anger and sadness didn't make the parents flinch; love between brother and sister was forbidden.

You may not be linked by blood, but she is your sister.

No, she isn't! you wanted to shout, but you didn't. You climbed the stairs and almost broke your neck in your frenzy. You didn't think twice before packing your bags and hitchhiking to the big city. You left the house --it would never be home-- at night.

They would hate you, but it was of no importance.

They separated you from your love. They could cry orders and yell all they wanted, you wouldn't listen to them.

They weren't YOUR parents. Your father had been killed before your eyes, and your mother and brother had probably died in jail.

You were old enough to make your decisions.

-nothing will separate us again. she loves me. i love her. nothing. ever again.-

XXXX

You found her apartment so, so, so easily you thought it had been too easy.

But it didn't matter.

She was there. And she would be yours forever.

You knocked on the door, and she opened with her usual smile.

Her pretty (they were so pretty) eyes light up with love and happiness, and you could feel yourself melt at the sight.

It would be so painless. She loved you. She understood you catching the stars. Everything was going to be alright.

You stepped into the room, hugging her body tight against yours. She was warm, oh, so very warm, and in your memories, she would be warm forever.

You kissed her. Her lips were the softest, and you would remember these being smoother than velvet.

She had been your first everything; first love, first time, first kiss.

But she wouldn't be your first kill.

You pushed her away to grab the object in your bag. You had always hated those before, but now it would help; it would save you and her.

She watched you with silent horror as you drew the gun and pointed it toward her. Her hands rose in a peaceful gesture and tears started streaming down her face.

You hated bringing sorrow to her, but she would understand. She already did deep inside, you were certain.

Please, please, please, don't do that. Cloud, I love you.

-i know you do. i love you. that's why i'm here. because i love you.-

I beg you, Cloud. Cloud, cloud, cloud…

-it's okay. it'll be okay. don't worry.-

Cloud, cloud, cloud, cloud, I love you, please, please, I love you…

-yes, i know. it'll be okay after this.-

Don't do that, cloud, cloud, I love you, cloud, cloud, I love you, please, please, don't do that…

-……………shut up……-

I'll do anything, anything, anything, cloud, please, please, I love you…

-i said shut up…-

Anything, I love you, please, please, I love you, cloud, cloud…

-shut up. shut up. SHUT UP.-

Cloud, cloud, cloud, cloud, cloud….

-just make it STOP.-

Cloud, cloud, cloud, cloud…

-SHUT UP.-

Cloud…

You heard a sound, a, oh, so very familiar sound. It was louder than at the television, and more terrifying than the thunder. But somehow, you suddenly felt calmed, soothed.

You watched silently as her body crumpled to the ground and a red liquid began to pool around her beautiful body.

There was a constant buzzing --cloud, cloud, cloud-- in your head, and you pulled the trigger two other times before it disappeared. There was more red now, but the buzzing wasn't present anymore.

You threw the object on the floor, and it made no sound when it landed on the carpet. You walked to the balcony. Leaning in, you saw the world moving beneath you.

You blinked.

Something was falling.

You looked up.

A tiny shiny dot detached itself from the blackness that was the sky and made its wavy path toward you.

You extended your hand, and finally, oh, finally, your fingers closed around the so very small blaze, and you smiled.

Yes, everything would be fine.

-

-

-

fin