-A Boy and his Memories-

I ran through the blood-stained forest with a fear-driven desire to put as much distance as I could between myself and the animal-like snarls of my monstrous brother. Though I had only caught a glimpse of him in the treetops, what I saw made me think he had just came from an unsucessful surgery in the Chimera Laboratory. The moss-covered path seemed to stretch on into the horizon without any signs of significant change. Exasperated, I decided to duck through the trees. I barely noticed the blood that dripped on my shirt from the crimson leaves of the trees, nor did I pay attention to the ground, even when I stumbled a couple of times. However, I could hear Claus not too far behind me, along with his grunts as he traversed through the foliage. He was way too close for comfort; had I actually tripped over anything, I'd be killed before I could even stand.

I eventually came out of the trees, only to find myself on the exact same path I had ventured from. “Oh God, there isn't anywhere I can go. . .” I had thought, before I broke back into a run up the path. Curious to know where I stood from death, I glanced behind me, and in the pale moonlight, I saw Claus clearly. He was incredibly thin, almost to the point to where his skin simply hung off his bones. His favorite attire—a simple teal and yellow striped shirt with puffy orange pants—were completely tattered and covered in dirt and blood, while his face. . .it was simply a skin-covered skull, with a wide open and spike-filled mouth.

With a yelp, I increased my pace, and snapped my head back to where I could see in front of me. My fear tightened its hold on my mind, and all I could focus on now was running. My eyes were now locked on the path ahead, and I didn't dare to unlock them. Already, my legs began to grow sore, and they almost felt like they'd turn into jelly at any moment.

All of a sudden, I felt the ground open up beneath me, and as I let out a yelp of surprise, I fell right in. I landed face-down against the dirt, though I quickly fumbled around in an attempt to get up. There was no chance; Claus stood above the rectangular-shaped hole, and stared at me with an unmistakeable look of accusation.

“Let's switch places, Lucas!” Claus exclaimed, whilst he took on an unexpectedly cheery voice. It was like he wanted to play with me. All I could do was stare in confusion. He then moved closer to the edge of the hole. I could now see the bottoms of his shoes, and I instinctively pressed myself against the rear wall of the hole, in a vain hope that I would simply phase through it.

“Come on Lucas, it'll be fun!” He smiled widely, took a few steps back, and took a running leap inside. I screamed in fright and shoved myself even harder against the hardened dirt.

“Please, leave me alone...” I muttered.

“Why? I think it would be muuuucccch better if you died instead of me. I mean, we both know that dad doesn't love you!” His smile began to fade, though he still kept his teeth bared.

“Y-you're lying!” I shouted at him, “Dad does love me!”

“No,” Claus shook his head, “No he doesn't. Think about it, Luc', why would he spend three years of his life looking for ME, while he completely rejected you?”

“He wanted to keep his family together...” I mumbled and casted my eyes to the ground for a moment before I looked back up to him.

“Do you honestly believe that? Come on...” He chuckled, and tensed his legs.

“Please, don't...”

He let out a snarl and leapt at me with an open mouth, ready to rip me to shreds...

“Ahhh! Don't kill me!” I had screamed into the darkness as I leapt up from my bed, drenched in a cold sweat. I shivered madly, both from the chill and from the fear that still stayed tied to me like a rope. For the moment, I was absolutely terrified of going back to sleep.

“Lucas?!” I heard my dad yell in concern. He turned on the lamp next to his bed, and bathed the area in a yellow glow. It made me feel a bit safer.

“Sorry, just a nightmare,” I muttered.

“That's the third time this week you've had one of those,” Dad stood up from his bed—which made a slow, irritating creak as he did—and smoothed out his woolly pajamas.

“Yeah...” I muttered as my lips curved into a frown.

Dad seemed to be lost in thought for a brief moment, but he then let out a tired sigh, “We'll talk about this more in the morning. Go get yourself a glass of warm milk, and try to get some sleep, okay?” He sounded unsure of himself. He wasn't exactly 'good' at this type of thing, but he still made an effort.

I nodded and walked towards the door; as I walked past the table, I swiped a wooden cup off of it. I didn't know if it was clean or not, but regardless, I pushed the knobless door open.

We really need to replace that. . .

After I filled the cup with milk from a small barrel filled with it outside, I went back in and gulped it down. Dad had turned off the lamp, so I could barely see anything that wasn't already illuminated by the moonlight. With a soft sigh, I walked past the silhouette of my snoring father, and crawled back into bed. I covered most of my body in the blanket, and stared up at the ceiling.

I didn't expect to instantly fall asleep, but at the same time, the milk didn't seem to have worked very well, as I was still awake and didn't desire to sleep, at least not yet. Honestly, I was scared of sleep now. It seems that every time I drift into the warped world of my mind, I only gain nightmares. I suppose it wouldn't be much of a surprise, given my past, but...why can I not move on? Though I've sheded most of my former crybaby nature, a small part of it still dwells with in me, and it still cries for my mother, and weeps for my brother. How long would the pain last. . .?

Some time had passed before the milk started to kick in, and my eyelids began to grow heavier and heavier. Before I knew it, I had practically fallen unconscious, though I kept a hope in my heart that I wouldn't have yet another nightmare.

I awoke to a ray of sunshine that just happened to be directed onto my face. I raised a palm to my eyes and grumbled in annoyance.

“Good, you're up,” Dad walked up to my bedside, dressed in his typical attire of a yellow shirt and brown vest, brown pants, and a cowboy hat on top of his head, “I'm headed to the bakery. Would you like to come with?” We both knew what my answer was going to be.

“No, but thank you,” I replied as I stumbled out of bed.

Dad sighed and shook his head, “I know you've been feelin' pretty blue, but sittin' around in this house won't do you any good,” I simply stared at him, “I'm not gonna force you to do anything, but is this really how you want to treat your life?” I averted my eyes to the floor, unsure of how to respond.

“I miss them too, you know,” He continued after a brief moment—his voice took a drop in volume and became riddled with uncertainty, “I've stayed up a couple'a nights myself thinking about what life could've been like before them pigs showed up,” He knelt down and placed a shaky hand on my shoulder, “That's what you've got to remember. None of it was your fault, son.”

I looked up at his face, searching for any hint of falsehood. “Even Claus. . . ?”

“Yeah, even Claus. He had his reasons for doing what he did,” His lips curved into an even deeper frown, and he stood up, “Are you sure you don't want to come? A little walk through the village might do you some good.”

I considered what he said. Even dad couldn't deny my part in Claus's suicide; I was the one wearing the Franklin Badge after all. Even now, there was still a scorch mark from his fatal lightning bolt, and as silly as it sounded, I almost hated the badge. Dad did make sense; my brother was under the thumb of a madman, who got a sick sort of pleasure from other people's pain and suffering. Maybe dad was right; I shouldn't be placing the blame on myself for what Porky did.

I made a grin, “Sure, let me get ready first.”

Dad smiled and nodded, and took his leave. I shoved a hand under my bed in search for my shoes. Once I found and put them on, I started towards the door. However, as I passed by my dresser, I paused as a thought entered my head. I stepped up to it, grabbed the knob, and pulled it open. Three items were stored there: Claus's shoes that he somehow managed to lose at the Drago Plateau, a red scrap of cloth from mom's dress, and my Franklin Badge that Claus used to kill himself. I grabbed the badge and held it out in my palm. Other than the somewhat sizable scorch mark, the badge still looked great. It was something anybody would be proud to have pinned onto their shirt. I looked it over a couple more times before I turned it on it's front. After I made a couple of adjustments to the pin, I stuck it through the cloth of my shirt, pinning it just to the right of where my heart would be. With a tiny smile, I ran to the door.

“Okay, I'm coming!”