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| Empty Mind, No Name | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| The old man sat in his wicker chair, sipping his scolding hot tea. He peered over the rim of his cup at the young man asleep on his bed. It looked as if he was having a nightmare, judging from the cold sweat that was appearing on his brow. His left arm was in a sling (due to nearly having his arm completely torn off his body). There were several gashes on his face and body that he had stitched and bandaged up, especially one in his abdomen. A lively bruise covered half his chin. He shut his eyes even tighter and began to groan and mutter incoherently. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| "Mion- N... no. S-stop... M- murderer!-" | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| The old man shook his head and took another long sip. The storm continued to rage, blowing a gale for the past two days, and still the young man hadn't woken up. He then turned to a cot just a few feet away from him. He had covered the person up completely just moments before. He shook his head and turned back to watch the young man sleep. He knew the news wasn't going to be pleasant to deliver. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Suddenly his eyes fluttered open. He let out a moan moments later. "W-where... Where am I?" he croaked slowly attempting to sit up. "What happened?- Ah, my head..." | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| "Lie back down," said the old man setting down his cup to join him. "You're in no condition to be sitting up and asking questions." He continued to rub his forehead and looked up at the stranger. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| "Who are you?" | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| "Lie down," repeated the old man, gently pushing him back on the pillows. He obeyed. "Call me Ben." He smiled, allowing a small twinkle from his brown eyes. It looked oddly familiar to the young man. "Mind telling me your name, or will I be calling you 'boy' from now on?" | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| "I'm- I'm..." 'Odd,' he thought to himself, 'I can't seem to recall my own name. That's not a good sign.' He turned back to meet Ben's expecting eyes. "I don't remember." Ben frowned. He half expected that to have happened. He was severely wounded when he found him and his colleague who was occupying the cot. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| "Do you remember what happened? I found you half dead." | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| "Found me? Where?" | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| "Up in near the mountains two days ago. I went to the odd looking town just under it, but people were too scared to come out. So, naturally, I brought you and your friend home." | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| The young man lay there absolutely confused. He had no idea who the heck he was, where he was, or why on earth he was there in the first place. How did he managed to wake up so severely beaten and bruised?- And who was this friend? "Has my- err- friend woken up?" Ben averted his gaze to the small dewy window. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| "He did, yesterday. But his fever was running high and, well- ah...- He died about an hour before you woke up." | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| "Oh," was all he could manage to say. Even though he couldn?t recall anyone with him, it hurt him more than he imagined to know that this friend of his was dead. "What was his name?" | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| "I'm not sure. He managed to mumble a few words. I heard him mutter 'Ron' some time during the day. Then 'Harry,' then something about a 'Molly.'" He glanced over at the cot. "Any of those names ring a bell?" The man shook his head sadly. Even if he tried, he couldn't put those names with faces. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Ben stood to serve him some tea. While he bustled around the small kitchen feet away, the man couldn't help but begin to wonder about his 'friend' who now lay dead across from him. He slowly turned to get a look at him (much to his neck's discomfort) but it turned out that he was already covered by a sheet. Ben returned several moments later with another mug in his wrinkly hands. "Drink this. It'll make you feel better." He gladly accepted the warm drink lightly laced with what tasted like whiskey. "Should ease your pain a bit," Ben said matter-of-factly. His throat felt too scratchy to speak, let alone ask Ben anything. So with a grateful nod, he handed the mug back and settled back. Maybe some more sleep could help him recollect some memories. Maybe it could help him remember who the person across the room was- Maybe he'll wake up from the God forsaken nightmare and return to his hopefully pleasant life... | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| --- | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| "Bloody hell," he moaned looking up at the wooden ceiling. "I wasn't dreaming." The rays of that first morning sunlight were warm and welcoming on his face. But when he turned his head, he could see the little cot where the mysterious man's body lay. It crashed all his visions of hope. Yet, he felt surprisingly better physically, and found it pleasant to be able to fully sit up without help or sudden, nauseating dizziness overtaking him. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| He fumbled out of bed, being that his left arm was still in a sling, and slowly regained his balance. Slipping his glasses on (at least he hoped they were his), he noticed that Ben was snoring away in a large chair by the fireplace, its embers nearly dying out. Turning his attention to the cot across the room, the young man was overcome with a sense of curiosity as to the identity of his 'friend'. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| The man slightly stumbled as he tried to regain control of his feet and approached the cot. With a steady hand he reached out for the sheet and slipped it down. Somewhere deep inside his heart was breaking. If he could remember this person he would have cried himself to unconsciousness. How he knew this God knows. Even though he was deadly pale, his skin giving off a deadly white glow and his bright red hair contrasting fiercely as if his head were on fire... He knew this man once possessed great life in him. Though he was as badly bruised as himself, his hair thinning and his skin was giving way to wrinkles due to age, there was something familiar. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| "I know you," he said out loud surprising himself and waking Ben. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| "What did you say, boy?" asked Ben still half asleep. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| "I know you," he continued to say to the man. Deja vu was taking over him. He'd seen this man smile. He'd seen him frown and be overtaken with unbelievable worry. But where? When? He didn't even know his own name. How could he remember someone else's? | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| "Boy, what are you doing?" Ben asked coming over, watching the young man's brow furrow, forcing himself to remember something that has been wiped from his memory. "Do you remember something?" He looked at Ben, brow still furrowed. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| "No... no. I thought I did." Ben frowned, hoping the man had. He nodded and proceeded to covering the body again. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| "We should bury him." He looked out the window. "It's stopped raining... Boy?" | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| "Y-yeah. We should," he replied, completely distracted by these odd sensations that he'd met this man before. It was beginning to frustrate him. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| "All right. Come on then." | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Several hours later the two men were standing not far from Ben's cottage, before a mound of dirt and a grave marking in a grassy field. Looking down at the mysterious man's grave, the young man couldn't help but feel guilty that he couldn't write that man's name on the marking, let alone say anything on his behalf. "Poor man," began Ben. "He never had a chance. I'm sure his loved ones miss him terribly." | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| "I'll miss him, too," said the man quietly. "Even though I can't remember him, I know he meant the world to me. A shame really that I don't know his name." Ben looked at him. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| "You need more rest. Let's get you back to the cottage." | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| "No," he replied, eyes still on the ground. "I think I'll stay. Just a moment longer." | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Ben nodded reluctantly and let him be. The man watched Ben's back retreat to the cottage. He stood there, his feet weakly holding him up against their will. The chilled wind was making it hard to stand, but he did so defiantly. Although it's only been a day since he's woken up, he noticed that he had a knack for being defiant. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| "I'm sorry," was all he could say. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not knowing. For not knowing who you are and what you must have meant to me. I'm sorry for dragging you into this-" Wait, he thought, how did he know that? He led this man to his fate. It made sense, but... then again it didn't. Why was he blaming himself? How did he know? It could have been the other way around for all he knew. "I'm sorry," he began again, " and ashamed, for not being the friend I should have been. But at least I'll remember you from this point on." | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| A light drizzle began around him. He turned to head back when he suddenly stopped. He had been holding a flower the entire time. It was a wildflower, as red as the man's fiery hair. He clumsily knelt down and placed it on the grave. "Rest well, my friend." He slowly got to his feet and without another word or look, he left. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| ---------------- | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Chapter Two // Chapter Four | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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