By: Inuki **Ookami**

 

4

Darkness surrounded the room. The room smelled funny, of medicine. Like a hospital. Was he in a hospital? Kaleb was older now. Much older. Probably about ten or eleven. Much older than the last memory when he was three. He remembered walking towards a strange device, everything around him was black, except the device, which was in the spot-light. He was hand-cuffed too. He tried to break loose. A bead of sweat fell down his face, as a hand push his back towards the device. He finally gave in, and laid down upon the thing. It was like a flat, cold, hard, metal bed. Well, it actually was a metal bed, sort of. Then his thoughts were interrupted as he heard an odd sound. This was the very first time he had been able to remember the memories when he wasn't near that boy. He had finally figured it out, last year. There was some sort of link that Mitsuhiro had between himself and the memories. Whatever it was the memory came faintly to him at first, it was faded, like an old shirt. He realized that Mitsuhiro must be walking slowly towards his room. Why he would be walking slowly towards it Kaleb had no clue. The boy didn't bother to stand up though, as he wasn't expecting Mitsuhiro to come to a stop at his door-way. So he continued on with the memory, but a sharp rapping sound against the door cut him off.

As he had figured out more and more about the memories in the past year he found that they were all similar. He was running and someone was chasing him, or he was locked up in a room, and fed cheap and disgusting food, or he angered someone, whoever guarded him perhaps? The person beat him with a whip. It stung badly, and made his face turn red with the marks. Why was it that he could only remember the things when Mitsuhiro was around? Another thing he wondered about often was why he was remembering the things now? Why couldn't he just remember everything? This was the first time he had apparently been let out of his cell in any of his memories so far. When the memories started he was three and running. The next one was him running again, when he was five. Then when he was eight he was running again, but was caught. He managed to escape somehow, perhaps the car they were driving in broke down? He was caught again when he was about ten. Whoever was trying to catch him obviously had a reason for it, and how he kept escaping seemed very odd. He wouldn't remember too much at a time either. When he was finally caught they shoved him in that horrid cell for weeks on end it seemed. This was the first time he could remember being let out of the cell. Someone had done something to him but what had they done? More importantly, why?

The knocking came again. He must have been off in a trance, thinking about the memories. He quickly jumped up, and headed for the door, he opened it half-way, still nervous from the images in the memories. There stood Mitsuhiro, arms full of clothing and other trinkets falling out of over-stuffed suitcases, bags, and a knapsack. The boy flashed a quick smile. Kaleb was glad, yet also unhappy at this. He knew that with Mitsuhiro around more often he would be able to explore the memories even deeper, and yet he also knew how Mitsuhiro acted in two of his past science classes and three or four of his past piloting classes. This boy was a trouble-maker. Kaleb thought that Mitsuhiro would interrupt his school habits. He worked very hard, and had one hundred percent, the highest mark in any of the piloting classes. It wasn't just the studying though, he was an expert pilot in the simulations. He couldn't wait to graduate this Learning Institute and go on to a real company, and fly into outer-space. There was something majestic about the stars he couldn't quite put into words. It was so serene, like a perfectly calm, black ocean of the night, filled with the reflection of the city from across some river or lake, except that they were stars. The blue eyed American glanced at the one entering suspiciously. Mitsuhiro plunked his bags and suitcases down onto the second bed, which was the furthest from the door. The American didn't say anything. So Mitsuhiro decided to be silent. They both sat in the room. It seemed so empty, so quiet.

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