Chapter 2 - Lost
By The Wandering Englishman
He felt as if he were falling. The darkened surroundings only heightened this sense as he watched what little light there was disappear. In his mind he could hear a loud squeal, like that of a television set that’s just been turned on.
In the distance, if there was such a thing, he could hear the frantic whispering of several people; each new tone familiar in some way to him.
The word seemed to penetrate his thoughts as wind rushed passed his ears. To his surprise, he could feel himself being lifted up, something or someone touching his hand as the black began to grow lighter.
“Hey, look! He’s waking up!”
The small group looked down at the leather-clad youth, each sighing silently in relief.
“Squall…are you alright?” The graying man looked deep into the blank grey eyes, still partially hidden by thick lashes. Brushing absently at his stray bangs, he helped lift the boy into a sitting position.
“You had us worried man! Thought you were a goner for sure…” The bouncing blond in the background called, shadowboxing absently.
The young brunette looked confused. Did he know these people? They seemed familiar; the slender, well dressed blonde to his left, who was eyeing him curiously; The bouncing blonde behind the dark haired man who took up most of his vision.
The older man was the strangest of all. His face, although old, had a youthful radiance about it. It was familiar, somehow. Very familiar. Like every expression had been carved into his memory…the memory now that failed to come to his beckoned call.
“Who are you…?” He asked, surprised at the tone of his voice as it croaked from his mouth.
“You’re kidding, ain’t you, Squall?” The hyper blonde called, stopping his bouncing to give the scarred boy a strange look, only to have his jaw drop when the brunette shook his head.
“Must be a concussion from the fall. We should get him to the Doctor right away.” The elegant woman beside him commanded, pulling Squall to his feet.
“Can you walk?”
“Good. Zell will take you back to Garden.”
“What ‘bout you, Quissy?” The tattooed youth asked.
“I’ll be right behind you.” She replied smiling pleasantly.
“Right. Come on Squall.”
Reluctantly following the short man, Squall stepped, concentrating hard on each step, still unsure of his ability. Glancing back briefly as he walked away, he could see the young woman leaning over the graying man…almost comforting him. He looked back up at the martial artist ahead of him, wishing he would slow down.
“It’s probably only temporary…in most cases, the subjects that have amnesia after falling usually regain their memory within a week.”
She knew it wasn’t helping; especially when the pained look on the president seemed to grow more painful as she sat beside him on the grass.
“I’m sure he’ll be back to normal soon.”
“But will he remember everything?”
“There’s a good chance he…”
“…He proposed yesterday.” The older man looked down at the grass, willing away the tears that threatened to spill over. Quistis stood there, looking dumbstruck as the words worked their way into her mind.
“He proposed and I didn’t say anything…I thought I’d lost him when he ran, but…up until a moment ago I thought he’d be able to come back…I can’t live without him.”
…I’ve lost him.
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