The Pandora's Box, 10

[svetlanacat6]

This part and the next... well, I shouldn't have told you about how much I hate sad ending...
 

“Sasha?”

“He's gone. You're pitiful.”

“El...”

“You ... are ... pitiful.”

YOU ARE PITIFUL.

Pitiful.

She had hung up.

The room was so dark. Something has blurred his sight.

He turned towards Tonya, to reassure her, to reassure him. The little girl, with her long dark hairs, her blue eyes...

She stared at him. Horrified. Cold. Soulless.

And she popped off.

He was lying on a stony ground, his head on his bag.

He was cold, hungry, exhausted.

And desperately alone.

Lonely.

The sunrise threw its first purple and pink beams. It was time to stand up and to go on.

The dreams were more and more complete. More and more terrible. More and more real.

He could feel the little girl's hugs. Tonya...

He could feel her soft hairs on his cheeks. Tonya...

He could smell her sweet odor, pastry and strawberry. Tonya...

He could feel the boy's hand in his own. Sasha...

He could hear his words. Sasha...

He could see his features, so alike his own. Sasha...

But there was no Tonya. There was no Sasha. There was no El.

You can mourn for people you have lost.

You know that they lived.

It's unbearable... but you have memories.

It hurts, every time of your life... but you have memories.

All he had to mourn for... were dreams, vain dreams.

A life he never had.

A life he would never have.

No Sasha, no Tonya, no El for him.

He had run away Uncle.

He had run away his friend.

He had managed to disappear.

They couldn't find him. Never.

They had never found him. They wouldn't.

The dream called Napoleon. It was simple. It was an evidence.

But he couldn't.

He couldn't open the Pandora's box. For it was open. And there was nothing left inside... except for despair.

And the blond vagrant took the road again, his cheeks bathed by tears. Tears that he shed on his two children, on his wife, on this life he never had.