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( XXXV. BERSERKER'S BONE )
SHE WAS BACK IN FRANCE.
The familiar cobbled pavements adorning the streets of France told her as much. The cafes and bakeries that stood by side and young musicians playing for spare cash reminded her of their summer there. Except, she wasn't really there, was she? No, this was a memory— and definitely not hers since Finley Nightly sat there with a small cup of coffee in his and a sandwich on the table in front of him.
Amelie wished it were real. She wished that she really was in France and she was sitting in front of her father who stared at the street with such a dazed look that made her want to cry. He was the same as she remembered him, with his beard and soft brown eyes that were always hiding so much thinking.
Amelie's figure stood in front of him, but he didn't see her, instead he smiled to a figure behind her that walked up to him. Angela, younger with longer hair, returned the wide smile and sat in front of him. Crossing her arms on the table, she gave him a knowing look, "I can't keep doing this, Fin."
"Why not? It'a not harming anyone," He mused, his voice breaking every bone in his daughter's body.
"You know why," Angela rose her brows. "I can't keep giving them to you, and I can't keep hiding it from your wife."
"It's not like they're drugs," Fin shrugged, taking another sip of his coffee and hissing at the burning sensation. "If my wife— who's a doctor, may I remind you, knew I've been taking these, she'd have my head."
"So why, Fin? Why are you so insistent?"
"Because," The man paused, taking a deep breath. "They're the only thing keeping him out."
Amelie woke up from a scream— but it wasn't her. Lydia's scream echoed not just in her head, in her soul. Her eyes flashed lilac as she scrambled upright, waking up the boy next to her abruptly. Her chest heaved as he put his hand on her shoulder, "Ams?"
"Didn't you hear that?" She panted, turning to the boy within disheveled hair and sleepy eyes, who shook his head in confusion as he slid his hand through her hair. "It was Lydia, she screamed."
He didn't reply, just looked at her worriedly. Shaking her head, she fell back into the bed, and turned to face him when he did the same. "I had a weird dream," She whispered and hummed for her to continue. "It was about my dad."
"Like a ghost?"
"No, a memory— but it wasn't mine," She explained. "He said something about taking drugs to keep Matthew out of his head."
