Song: Left Alone
              By: Jurrivh

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I didn't understand the meaning of purity. For most people, purity means white, empty, or blank. What does this even mean? How can something so dull, and basic, be pure? I have learned many things when I was alive, or when I was trapped in that flesh of meat. My body entrapped me in a case of bones and muscles, only my eyes being a window for me to see through. I only watched and thought over my decisions when I was alive at one point. What does it mean to be alive? Many moments in my life I felt dead though my heart was beating just fine. Periodically I didn't wish it was beating, but I suppose the emotions and afterthoughts of leaving who I apparently "love" was too much for even me to overcome.

"Love"...such a powerful word taken for granted.

I haven't been alive since I was asleep for some time, but from the second Layla and Jude Heartfilia accepted me to their household, I have seen the phraseology of "love" extensively. People can "love" inanimate objects, as well as people who are alive. Even those who are deceased. Why still "love" someone when they are no longer alive? I felt that emotion strongly when I lost my adopted mother, Layla Heartfilia. Perhaps it was my memory of her that reminded me of what I had lost. She was a beautiful lady with class and elegance that I was never skilled to attain. Somehow I still miss her, even though I am Here.

Here. Where even is Here?

No, if I can recall I am here, in the Abyss. A large void that keeps Souls, like me, bound until we are to be taken to our next life. Is there even a next life, or are we to be sent elsewhere and to just sit and wander? Can Souls even inhabit another life such as I have? I have defied the Gods before I understood such a word. Defying can be both good and bad. If you oppose a tyrant, then you are overthrowing them for the sake of freedom. But if you disobey your parents, then you are straining the tie between you and them. I have done that with my adopted father, Jude Heartfilia. I didn't learn I was adopted, or even a being that was capable of overthrowing the Gods. At the time, I ran away to defy my father to find a family. Even though he was my family, I left. How peculiar of me to do. Leave one family to find another.

Human emotion is intriguing to ponder after you are dead. I have made many mistakes and watched various people I "love" die before my very eyes. Those emotions strain my heart and burn my eyes for some odd reason. It is a negative emotion, but for what reason, I do not know. If I "loved" someone then why am I hurting whilst thinking of them? I had a SoulMate, but he isn't here. What was his name again? I can't remember but only the shade of pink. Wait, salmon. He hated it when they said pink. They? Who's they? My first or second family? If I ran away from my first then it must be my second choice of a family. Who were they again? I can't think back to them either.

I walk, and only continue doing so is walk. In this dark canvas that is the Abyss, I walk nowhere and yet everywhere. The Souls I couldn't see before now overwhelm me. Some of the Souls are crying, seeming to be lost. Others are angry that they are here as they scream it isn't time yet. But if they are dead then it must mean it was their time. Why else would they be here? If I am dead then it must be because it was my time to go, right? Another strain on my heart that I placed my invisible hand over it. Apparently, I am wrong. But if I can't remember my memories then how am I to know if I am to be dead or not? The Souls scream in agony that I had to cover my ears. There is a wind slicing through us when we were carried away by the powerful breeze. While I am only drifting with my hands still covering my ears, the cries of the Souls never waver. Some of them beg and plead to be released. The remaining Souls pray. Why do they pray now at the very end? If the Gods didn't listen to you then they certainly won't listen now. Have I ever prayed to the Gods before? If I did I'm sure they ignored me. I am, after all, their demise to come. If I was never to become the Dark One then I must be an even greater evil. Perhaps I am the one to overthrow the Gods, but why would I do such a thing? What have the Gods ever done to me?

Ow. That question made my heart hurt extremely.

So the Gods have done terrible things to me, which means I hate them? This is becoming confusing because I don't understand. I am being carried by a powerful breeze thinking incredibly hard about my living life. I can only recall bits of my life before being "human" for that period of time. Didn't a man tell me to go somewhere at one point? I know this man if I think harder. He was gorgeous for a man with grey eyes. If I look closer to my memories, he seemed hollow or what humans say...dead inside? No, he was anything but dead. What was his name again? He told me once before he carried me away from my home. It wasn't home, but a chamber. A room indescribable as it would bend and twist to something else. The chamber would change by his command. It was my Creator that changed the room to whatever he wished in order to assemble me. I would watch as his hands move the clay to shape my face. Even when I didn't have eyes, I would watch. My eyes weren't windows, but I didn't care, I made windows of my own. I believe that's when I first defied the Gods. This gorgeous man in front of me was my Creator, and his gorgeous hands were making me. Who cared if I didn't have eyes yet. I wanted to watch him mold my face for endless hours. His short, curled hair would sometimes fall over his porcelain face whilst he kept working never sweeping the strands away. It brought out his eyes more. Those cold, grey eyes that made me tremble in my nonexistent body. I one day wished to touch him as he does to me. With his sharp jaw and long nose, I wanted to trace my fingers over this perfect mold he has. That's when I saw his clothing as well. Unlike me, still made of clay with no clothes, he wore dark clothing that concealed his iridescent skin. With only his gloveless hands and face could I watch as he seems to glow in rays of many colors. He would change from a dark green aura to a soft blue. It would then shift to a menacing red into a bright yellow. He had many auras that I could never decipher. I didn't even know these were auras at the time. But most of all, the one color I would see seep out of him most was a gentle purple. That color relaxed me most because it also seemed to relax him as well. Every day as he sculpted, I would wait for the day he would speak. I wondered what his voice sounded if it was either rough or soft. I sometimes imagined that I would speak to him and pull his face near me. That way I could look even closer to those grey irises that I at the time didn't understand why it made me think such a way. 

Amongst the Souls, I remember searching. I left my mold to go find the powerful Soul I could sense even if it were in another Realm. That's when I found her, Seraphina. She was deeply saddened by something of which I had no clue about. Her long, luxurious hair that cascaded down her back was swept onto her side as she sobbed. I saw where she was most pained in her Soul, and that was the darkest piece that was corrupting her. I didn't understand why I wanted to take it so badly at the moment, but to see this girl, crying, somehow made me feel something. I became sad. This girl that I had never seen before made me feel an emotion, and it was sadness. The tightness in my chest and hands trembling at my sides. My nonexistent eyes were burning whilst my throat became too constricting. I wanted to take the girl's pain away. I had to take the corrupted piece of her Soul.

So I did. I took that small corrupted soul and kept it in me. This was when I hadn't realized I had done the impossible. The Gods were the only beings that could make a Soul for their children, but I had taken a piece for myself and mended it to where it was my own. That's when I returned to my mold, only for my Creator to gasp at my sight. What could he see that I couldn't? He placed his hands over my cheeks and wiped away something from my eyes. "What?" He spoke. He actually spoke. His voice was an angel's trumpet, powerful yet glorious to hear. I had witnessed a change in my Creator at that very moment. His stiff posture softened when he released a gasp of some sort. For the longest time, he only wore a passive face while I wished for him to express anything. He smiled. At me. Those grey eyes changed into a gentle purple as he kept smiling. Tears fell down one of his eyes when he rubbed my cheekbones again. "You...You're beautiful. I have never realized how beautiful you were."

He complimented me. I felt my second emotion: happiness. My Creator moved his forehead to mine before closing his eyes. "I will protect you, my small creation. No matter what, I will save you." Save me? Save me from becoming what I am, or from being decimated by the Gods? Either way, I was joyous to be with him. I could finally live alongside my Creator and learn what I was feeling. I learned far too late when I was alive that it was "love" that I felt for my Creator. He was the man I had fallen for.

I remember that. I remember who he is. His name was Hades, my first love.

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Very short chapter, but this is only the first part of Repressed Memories. While our protagonist remembers her lost memories, what's going on with the living?

As always my Lovelies...love you all!❤️