I was paralyzed—supine; staring at the stars of the night sky—horrorstruck after witnessing the death of Hanso, despite this scene being played all in my head. Miguel fell into sight as Hanso left. But for some reason, in an instant, I saw him as Jin—Jin holding a strange cracking object in his hands, wearing a smirk on his face, his eyes glowing green. Miguel had then given me a helping hand, snapping me out of the world in which I saw nothing but death and unfathomable anomalies. 

I fumbled. But eventually, I took hold of Miguel's hand, missing at first due to the darkness but then ultimately making a trembling yet strong clutch at it. Miguel wasted no time. I was pulled up to my feet again. Ensuingly, the pain from Hanso's thundered strikes to my core perpetuated. To which, I could only wince.

"Are you okay, Ash?" asked Miguel, apparently concerned. 

Ash. 

Ash.

Ash. 

Ash. 

Ashhh.

Suddenly, what seemed like memories came rushing into my head, the people—familiar strangers—in such sudden memories using my name comfortably like friends and lovers. One after the other, the memories came. The fluids in my stomach churned as I saw these striking faces about which I seemed to know a lot. 

First, Miguel himself, but a bit older. A different Miguel. Then, this strange woman who looked Latin rested her head on my chest and chanted my name before confessing her apparent love for me. Then came a goblin begging me to spare his life, shouting my own name at me. Then, a strange elf girl, dying in my arms. Next, a little boy with a bandage over an eye, saying my name in the sweetest way possible. Then, a powerful man in a suit calling—

"ASH! Are you even listening!" Miguel snapped at me.

And I was glad he did. Because only then able was I to escape those visions again. My head spun—a strange lightness becoming apparent. Then came the headaches. There was an excruciating pain—like needles pricking the back of my eyeballs. Headaches in the eyes. I didn't feel like I could stand. I wasn't okay. 

"I'm okay," I said to Miguel, looking at him. It was indeed a late response. 

I hadn't seen Miguel's death in those strange visions; so I assumed it was okay not to worry about his future. Quite frankly, I didn't even know whether I was able to peek into the future or not. I felt more like reliving rather than fortune telling or future glimpsing. 

'But there's no way I'm reliving anything' I shook my head. 'Is this some type of ability? No, that's absurd. I don't—'

"You don't look okay," Miguel interrupted my thoughts. "Are you sure you're okay? Is anything broken? You have to tell me or you're gonna risk your own life."

"I'm okay," I repeated, brusquely. 

I wanted to be left alone. 

Who cared about broken ribs and internal bleeding (other than everyone in the whole world who weren't suicidal)? Fathoming the truth behind these visions was what stuck out as important to me. 

I had finally caught wind, exhaling and inhaling. I had no idea I was mostly holding my breath the whole time. I felt a little better (after having taken in fresh, cold, night air). Better. But not good. Again, I wasn't okay. I felt a strong grievance for Hanso's actions tonight. We had done him more bad than good—but the way he treated us, I couldn't help but condemn him for that. 

Suddenly, I saw hands swinging a bat. I swung at a creature, crushing its skull. Then, I was in another sense, swinging at a man's head. Next, another scene and more swinging. Swinging, swinging, swinging. Before I knew it, hundreds of images flashed through my mind again. They all showed me swinging. They were like memories. And though I hadn't lived those moments, I remembered them for some reason. 

Miguel sighed. "I'm sorry about Hanso ..." He avoided eye contact but tried to look at me. 

I sighed as well. "I know. And I am too. It wasn't your fault. It's my fault." I didn't know what to say, but U regretted saying what I had said to him. It wasn't my fault. It was mainly his.

"Sorry," Miguel said, "but it was really my fault tonight. I opposed him, Ash. We wouldn't have been in all this trouble if I'd just listened to him. I just really wanted a place to stay, and I didn't want to lose a piece of jewelry given to me today by someone important. It was possible for a thief to steal it while I slept there in that open alley. I know you're curious, but please, wait until I'm comfortable enough."

I couldn't put up with him and his secrecy for any longer. But unfortunately, I had to. I was about to let him have it, but then I relented, deflating. My alacrity was so obvious that I expected him to ask if I was going to say something. But Iuckily, he didn't. 

"I-" I stuttered, "I understand what you're talking about. But I believe that it's because of both of us—Hanso betrayed and left. It's not your fault. It's our fault. And that's why we have to fix things ... together."

I wasn't sure about our friendship and how it would last ... but I had faith. Wasn't that the most important thing one could have? Well, not really. You see, bravery was better than faith. And yes, I knew that the quality of your faith can result in your fate. But faith without bravery was like a pizza without cheese. 

I really liked cheese back in my days in the 'normal' world. The world where things weren't ruined. I spent so many years ridiculing the system of the society we lived in, never taking a moment to appreciate it. If I could have turned back, I would have turned back the fastest could have. To relive that old life of mine.

That life of mine with my parents—my mother and my step father (who I still loathed excessively) despite seldom seeing him in the house. And my siblings—who happened to my little baby and my little sister (who holds the dream of becoming a dark Vader one day). 

But maybe ...

Fuck that kind of life. 

That kind of life was perfect. But it was horrible. Everything was perfect. But when it came to my mindset, everything thing was horrible. I didn't have the courage to do anything. I never stepped out of my comfort zone, not even once. But that day—after that day Jin gave that metal bat to me; everything changed for a bit. 

I couldn't have felt more alive in that moment. Jin teleported with me while I swung my bag at bikers. It was beautifully terrifying. But also one of the highlights of my boring life.

I missed my old friends. Dobby, who pretended to be grumpy all the time (mainly because of his uncle) but actually had a nice heart. Tristan, the rich guy, who simply always brought a smile to my face. And Jin, one of the most fascinating persons I had ever met (the person who inspired me to live on and keep pushing through). 

In retrospect, we had a great time together. They were my first and best friends. If only time had a reverse button to go back and relive those moments with them. I missed my friends. 

But because of me, they were all gone. Gone but remained close to my heart. Gone but glued to my mind for all of my time on Earth. 

And ... the only remnants I had of them were the memories. The memories and ... and what else .... ?

The memories ...

And that metal bat. 

Miguel sighed, jamming his hands in his pockets. "So ... what are we gonna do now?"

I glanced at him, serious eyes. "We find my metal bat." I started walking away. 

Miguel followed. "Wait ... you mean the one you retrieved and lost again?"

"Yes ..."

"It makes zero sense to go looking for it at this time. You shouldn't go looking for it."

Suddenly, I felt an urge to do something. Something different. Instead of waiting for the visions to come to me, I went to them. I focused as I walked, taking a deep breath in. 

'Let me see,' I thought, 'show me ... c'mon, show me.'

I tried my best to make send my mind into that phase again. The one in which I get those visions,

those images—memories, with an unknown owner. I tried my best, my body sending blood to my brain. I heart my heart pounding in my ears. My breath deliberate. I tried to tap into those memories. 

Suddenly, I started to see things. Images of death. Images of atrocity. Images of happiness. More images of death. I saw where I had to go and what I had to do to retrieve my metal bat. The goblin boy would rouse at seven, and wander about alone. I saw. But then I saw more. I saw too much. I felt my body collapse.

Tapping into those memories was a mistake.

A terrible mistake.