"Are you ok?" She asked, puzzled about my expression.
"Yes, I'm fine." I was only half meaning it, but I was alright enough to where it would not be considered lying.
"Are you sure?" She interrogated more, this time only slightly more aggressive.
"Yes." I wish she would stop.
"...Okay, fine. I'll be here for you." She stopped, almost as if recognizing I wished for this conversation to end.
"....I love you too."
For the past few days I have been walking in a half-drunk haze through the smoldering buildings, the smell of smoke heavy in the air. It is absolutely heartbreaking, the sight of people stumbling through the ash covered streets, carrying their dead family members in their arms, trying to come to terms with the fact that it is real. They are old, young, and of all races, but all are suffering from the bullshit.
Seth lay a few feet from me in a makeshift grave. I can still smell him, the leather of his motorcycle jacket, his leather gloves, and the musky odor of his skin. I can feel his foot, just barely, beneath my head, and the hairs on my arms stand on end, knowing he is dead. It is worse than I ever imagined it would be.
I needed to kill him, for all of our sakes. It was just an accident, one of those really stupid ones where the drunken driver hits the stationary motorcycle from behind. I was just going to let him go, but he caught my coat and I could smell him. He grabbed the hem of the coat and started dragging me along. He was a few feet ahead of me, so he didn't see the oncoming vehicle. I had to kill him, for everyone's sake. I didn't want to do it, but there was no choice. I am sure his finance will be upset, but it was necessary. What am I going to do? What am I going to do?
I try to take in all of the details of the alley I am in, even though I know it will just make me sick. I close my eyes and then open them again, and get ready to perform my ultimate act of selfishness. The haze around me intensifies, until I feel the warm tear falling down my cheek. I cannot even be sure if it is one tear or a whole collection of them, until the tears start to pour from my eyes. I feel the wind whipping through my hair and clothes, the wind that would usually bring relief, but now only brings pain.
I cannot do it! Not today! Not Seth! No more.
"This can't be happening!" I tell myself, but I know it is true. The pain is killing me, the storm, the killing storm is taking my life from me. It is far too early to die. I have too many things left to do. I will find a way, I will fight this storm. I will live for all of us. I will be the soldier of a new dawn, a dark army, a legend that will live on forever. I will make them sing! They will sing!
And then, I couldn't. I could not. I cannot. I will not. My body is going numb. I feel nothing. My legs feel like lead. I just want to sleep. I feel the cold concrete beneath my back and realize I have lost control of my body. It has been tingling in protest, but that has long gone. I cannot see, I cannot hear, I cannot move. I can't even breathe. My life has been stolen. I have nowhere else to go.
Before I go, I think back to how it was - My life, and my name of... I can't remember. How did I get here? What happened? The life I led before. I don't think I want to remember, but I can't keep from trying to remember. Tears are running down my face as I drift off. My last thought is a little blurry, but I still remember it. A name, someone's name. My name, perhaps? Remember my name. I struggle, but I cannot do it. I can't. I can't! I can't! I can't! But then... I remember something - Dayfield. Why Dayfield? Why is Dayfield the only thing I can remember? I don't know, but to ease my pain of recalling my true name; I think Dayfield will do just fine, for now.