Snippet #2501172

Naive. That was the world that described the woman before him. Optimistic, too. It was a shame she couldn't see how she was blinding herself with her innocent, childish words. To think that she could stay her forever almost made him laugh. Almost, but he did hold it back so that he didn't insult her. When she spoke again about the heart of someone not being based on beauty, but resolution, Lyki could only laugh internally. This woman was so deprived of the truth. If only she knew what truly laid in her wake. Still, he refused to burst her bubble. He didn't want to cloud her eyes and let them fade. If she were lucky, she would die a quick death.

For some odd reason, his mind raced to great rolling clouds that moved down a massive, erupting mountain. Pompeii, a story he'd heard about though he wasn't sure why, became the vision he had for Brigitte's death. She body preserved in the ghostly white ash from the eruption. Her innocence still in-tact and her heart never knowing the truth about man, about war.

How long had he been silently starting at her? He didn't know, but she seemed to pick up on the time and was sweeping away from him. Had he not been so stunned by it all, he might have waved. Instead, Lyki just blinked after the girl.

Gray skies roll down and put you to eternal rest. It was the dream he wanted to make a reality. He didn't know why, but Lyki felt compelled to watch over this girl. Too bad he didn't understand why. Knocking on his noggin, he hoped a memory would surface. Nothing came, but a small, childish laugh. It caused him to sit upright and question his past. Why was there a girl's giggle embedded in his mind.

Numbness washed over him like great waved brought on by a tsunami. Was it possible? Had Lyki, prior to losing his mind, been a... a father?

Even though Brigitte was long gone, Lyki's hollow eyes moved to where she once sat. Why was she suddenly of interest to him? Why was how she died worthy of playing out and, worse, making sure it was as peaceful as she needed?

Am I sick, he questioned. He rasped and give his limber body a quick pat down. No, he seemed fine. Raising his gaze to meet the door she left through, he let his dull eyes linger there. "We will meet again," he spoke aloud, mainly to himself.

Lyki then spent the rest of the night at the bar until closing time, which wasn't much later. He then trudged outside and into his little abode. He would spend his night awake and staring at the ceiling, mulling over all the information and feelings that had surfaced.

"I must be mad," he finally whispered before his eyes finally gave into the weight.