He watches his sister escape. There’s crashes, there’s screaming, there’s gunshots. Everything’s so loud. There are others, too, on the floor. He can’t see them, but he feel’s a hand take his. His sister held that hand, before she slipped away. Before there was pain in his spine, then nothing.
He watches his sister escape. That girl drags her along, the loud one. She has a brother too, he thinks. He’s quieter. He likes them both. They made them laugh, and told them stories. They gave his sister their portions when she gave hers’ to him.
The girl’s crying, when he see’s her look back. “I’m sorry.” He thinks she says. And then they escape. And the hand that was holding his is cold and wet.
He watches his sister slowly starve in the cramped vessel. It’s cold. The lights are out. They hold each other to keep warm, the baby’s stopped crying. She’s so tired. So is his sister. She hadn’t stopped crying, though. He sits down next to her and leans on her shoulder, he hopes it makes her a little warmer.
He watches his sister be rescued. They’re metal giants. He’s seen them before, he thinks, on the T.V. while mommy and papa watched the news and he and his sister colored. There’s a person with them, too. They’re nice, they try to smile, but everyone’s scared. His sister is scared. He doesn’t want them to be scared, but they won’t stop shaking.
He watches his sister be rescued. They go on a big, big ship, and there’s more of those robots. No other people, though, but that one is doing their very best. He can tell. His sister is brave, she isn’t scared, he thinks. But, when he takes her hand, she’s still trembling.
He watches his sister live in that big, big ship. They all sleep in one big room together, but it’s better than at the other ship. They have beds, and blankets, and they can cry as hard and as loud as they need and won’t be screamed at, or hurt. He still can’t look at the girl without the eye too long without getting squeamish.
He watches his sister cry, from time to time. She doesn’t try to do it around the others, but he see’s her when she’s alone. She cries and cries, and he holds her like papa and mommy used too. Then that big white robot see’s her cry, and he holds her too. He likes that one, and the purple one and the one with the big wings. They like his sister, and they take care of her. He likes the person too, and most of the other robots. But those three are special, because they’re special to his sister.
He watches his sister make friends. She makes a lot of them, too. The others that escaped, the big robots, the one person. His sister was always good at making friends. She doesn’t talk to the girl and boy who would make them laugh as much now, he doesn’t know why. Another boy likes her, and they play a lot. He doesn’t recognize him, there were lot’s of kids, but he’s about his age, he thinks. But his sister is smiling more and more, and that makes him happy.
He watches his sister day by day. He knows something happened, but he wishes she would look at him, too. He wishes she would hug him back and hold his hand. He misses his sister.
He watches his sister go home. The other kids go home, too.
He see’s mommy and papa. And he can’t stop crying, and though he’s hugging them they still won’t see him. He misses them so much. He wanted to go home for so long. And, even if just for a moment, he feels his sister holding them, her hand on his shoulder, and then it’s gone.
He watches Emilia go home with papa and mommy, and with An, too. He won’t stop crying, but now he knows his sister won’t be alone. She’ll be okay now, she’s home. But still, he doesn’t really want to go. He wishes he could go home with them, he misses them so much, so much, he just wished he could hug them again. He didn’t even say goodbye.
Then, a hand takes his. It’s familiar, but now it’s warm.
He sniffs hard, he can’t answer.
“I know it’s been lonely, but she’ll be okay. They’ll all be okay now.”
He takes a deep breath, but it comes out in a harsh wheeze. He doesn’t want to go. But it’s so hard to say.
They’re all standing in a garden, are they all saying goodbye, too? He wonders.
The hand gives him a gentle squeeze. “I know.”
Emilia watches the flowers in bloom. They came home in the middle of Spring, and though the Lost Light already took off, everyone else had to say goodbye now. Brook, Jedah, Marie, and Duiri would be leaving the country, and everyone else lives in different states. But, she thinks, staring at the field of flowers, she doesn’t want goodbyes. She’s already had enough of those. Too much for a girl her age.
Why does everything have to end in goodbyes?
A crisp wind suddenly picks up, sending loose petals spiralling into the air, haplessly following it. There’s a glimpse of someone in the flowers, crying, she knows that face. Without a second thought, she throws herself through the wall of bushes, and she loses sight of the other side. Then she tumbles out of the shrubs and lands on her knees. She’s scraped and bruised, but she doesn’t think about that. He was here - she just saw him -
But the figure was gone, and only the flowers remained.
But that was enough for him. She had see him, even if it was just for a moment. He wiped his tears with his free hand, and hoped she could hear him.
