Midnight Memories

chapter 46: i can't lose her

chapter 46: i can't lose you

flashback | Kai's POV

Death hasn't been a foreign concept to me since I was 8, when I woke up next to my mom's dead body, drowning in her blood.

I knew what it was, I saw it happen millions of times in my nightmares, but somehow it seemed like it was far away. A distant abstraction that could only touch me with my eyes closed. Especially now when I wasn't alone anymore.

And somehow, during the long run, I forgot that I could see death with my eyes wide open too.

Christ, I could see it so clearly... and I did.

I forgot I didn't have the right to be happy. I forgot that life's been a fucking asshole to me and him.

For a second the kids who never had anyone other than their demons were actually happy. For a second the kids who'd grown up way too soon wanted to live.

But death didn't keep us waiting, and soon...

It.

All.

Came.

Crashing.

Down.

~+-=~

I'm not sure anyone would ever understand the bond Dylan and I shared. Two fucked up kids, that found each other completely accidentally and tried to survive together, get out of the jungle and enjoy the ride.

I met Dylan during a fight. That's right, the first time we met we actually kicked each other's ass (It's true, kids at universities fight hella lot. I know, it's dumb, but it is what it is.). I'd love to believe that I kicked his ass more than he did mine, but if I'm being completely honest with myself, he broke my fucking arm while I only broke his nose.

I hate the sight of blood, can't fucking stand it, so does Dylan... did. But we were both desperate to feel alive and that's why we were both there: to feel something. The thing is, art and music help until they don't.

So once we were both a part of a massive fight against each other during our freshman year.

Going back to that day, I'm not even sure what it was about, how it even started, I remember I was told there'd be a fight later that night and I hadn't slept for days, so I hoped someone would be kind and strong enough to finally knock me unconscious.

Long story short, it was the highlight of the fight, everyone batshit crazy to show their manic skills like it was an interview for a stunt double (spoiler alert: it wasn't), and then we heard a chick shout about the police. The whole "mafia-gang" started to run away like a bunch of ants, as Dylan and I kept throwing punches at each other.

Now that I think about it, it must have looked almost comical: Dylan and I laying in the middle of the street with bloody faces, still kicking each other violently while our "teams" are running away, not caring about screwing us over.

We let go of each other, surprised and in no rush to run away. I mean it was a boyish harmless fight, not like anyone was going to get killed, although I hoped I was.

We stopped the punching and the kicking and stood up, my arm killing me, his bloody nose slightly crooked on one side, and probably killing him too.

I dug inside my pocket, before throwing my ass on the pavement and lighting up a cigarette.

"Need a smoke?" I asked looking up at him, offering him the pack. He looked down at me, his face humorous.