Our Darkest Memories

~ Lost Memory

I sighed when I realized he, unfortunately, was right and reluctantly turned to sit on a fallen tree that now formed a nice bench for us to sit on.

Raiden, who took my annoyed face as a victory, went to grab the first aid kid that only consisted of the few items we had collected over the years. The moment Raiden joined us, he had added his own little collection.

When he returned, he sat next to me and zipped open the red bag in which we stored our medical equipment. While Raiden inspected its content, Blaze was checking if everything in my backpack was still intact.

"Well, at least you didn't break anything in your fall," Blaze joked, trying to light the mood.

"At least that is good news. For this time, that is," Raiden added.

"This time? What makes you say that?"

He showed a smile and pointed at the long line running over my arm. "Well, it seems like it's not uncommon for you."

"Right..." I said, thinking about the real reason my arms and face were covered with scars. "I personally think of it as the tree's fault."

"Or maybe you could have looked at where you were walking and then made the effort to lift your foot a little higher, instead of falling over."

"Well, it doesn't really help that I am wearing shoes that are a size too big," I grumbled.

I heard Blaze chuckle a few steps away from me, but she turned it into a cough when I gave her a grumpy look.

"I'll, ehm- I'll go find some wood for a fire. It's a good time to make a stop for lunchtime anyway," she quickly mumbled before hurrying away.

After a moment of Raiden carefully inspecting the wound on my hand, I sighed. "Sorry for being so grumpy. I just... hate trees."

"You're kidding," he replied while giving me a surprised look that was clearly faked. I slapped his arm for it. He clicked his tongue in disapproval. "Didn't anyone ever tell you to not slap the person who is taking care of you?"

I took it as a sign to shut my mouth again and so I watched Raiden take care of my hand again. He took out some bandages and laid them ready to apply to my palm. After that, he pulled out a small bottle and carefully applied its content to the dirty parts of the wound. If I didn't recognize what it was before, the stinging gave it away

"How did you manage to get your hands on that?" I asked, unable to hide my surprise. Disinfectant was something that you didn't just find anywhere anymore.

He shrugged his shoulders. "Had to shoot a skip tracer when I was on the run. I searched his bag afterward and found this gem and some other expensive things. Hunting kids obviously pays well."

"You don't seem like you regret it."

"Regret what?"

"Shooting that skip tracer."

Focusing again on wrapping the bandages around my hand, he sighed. "I've become a different person over time. All of this has shaped all of us into someone new. I used to feel sorry for the people outside of the camps. Not only for the runaways but also for the parents and their normal lives. They are driven by fear. But now, I just can't anymore. People send their own kids to hell. Important people keep blaming the children for everything bad happening in this country. Ex-military and volunteers sign up to hunt us for a bit of money. Those PSFs..." He paused. "I used to feel sorry for them, to be so desperate that they needed to capture kids to survive. But when they caught me, there was joy in their eyes. They didn't care what would happen to me. They loved the thrill of the hunt and the excitement of being in control.

"There was a time where I felt bad when I had to hurt one of them, but now I have to force myself to shed a fake tear when I kill one of them," he spat out. He seemed lost in his words, but then his head shot up and his eyes found mine. His widened eyes quickly scanned my face and he seemed tense. "I'm- I'm sorry, I didn't mean... I don't want you to think that I'm some sort of monster that likes to kill PSFs. Or anyone for that matter," he rapidly added. His breathing was slightly uneven and he swallowed. It seemed as if he tried to find anything to confirm his suspicions when his eyes ran over my face again.

"I don't think that of you," I finally said. My free hand found its way onto his hand, which he had unknowingly squeezed around mine. He breathed out. "If anything, I guess I can understand."

I knew that he just let out something that he had been holding in for a long time and that he just wanted to vent, but by the way his eyes desperately shot up to my face, I realized he wanted to hear something as well. He wanted to hear that someone else felt like that as well. That he wasn't the only one feeling like that. That he wasn't bad for feeling it.

And so, I said what he wanted to hear. Weirdly enough, I realized I wasn't even lying when I said, "That night when you helped us... We had been running from them the whole day. We were exhausted. Every time we thought we were finally safe, they showed up again. And then, that night, there was no way that we could get away or trick them. I thought it would be the end. When I lost Blaze and heard her scream... I wanted to do everything to them. I wanted to kill them. I wanted them to hurt. I wanted to be the one to painfully take their lives."

He studied me closely. "You really care for her, don't you?"

I sighed and stared ahead of me. "When the world around you gives up on you, you realize how much the support of even one person is worth."

Every teenager in the world would know that feeling of abandonment better than anyone else by now. But Blaze and I, we knew that feeling far before IAAN took everyone's normal life away. We only had each other when we had to hide in our rooms or when we had to sneak around the house because no one else would help us whenever our parents would lift their arms, ready to strike. That feeling of resentment from our parents, knowing that you are unwanted, that is what we were raised with and we helped each other through it.

But right now, there are plenty of people going through that exact same thing for the first time and they have no idea what to do. They have no one to grasp when they stumble after being hit by the hatred of society. And that... That amount of loneliness is indescribable.

"Blaze and I, we've never been apart. We've never given up on each other and always watched out for the other. Without Blaze, I would have been all alone. I don't know if I would have survived that weight of loneliness."

It was silent for a while, and I could tell we were both thinking about our conversation. Finally, Raiden nudged my leg with his and softly said, "And here I thought you liked being on your own."

I knew he meant it as a joke, but I replied truthfully, "Everyone needs someone."

Eventually, I shook it off, knowing that Raiden was still staring at me. I stood up and walked away. Looking over my shoulder, I smiled. "Come on, Tarzan. That fire won't light itself."