Spoiler! :
Chapter 4
Felix
At first, it felt like my body was ripped apart. The pain was excruciating, it spread into every inch of my body, through every muscle. Maybe that was because I haven’t felt pain in such a long time that it seemed too strong, and in fact, horrifying. At one moment I even wished I never decided to leave, but still I knew it was too late to turn back. And yet, through the pain I could feel relief. I was glad I was still able to feel.
But all remained dark and hopeless, until the pain stopped as sudden as it had come, and I was met with light. White, blinding light, surrounding me, consuming me. And then, I felt at peace. I felt no emotion, no more pain, no more anxiety over my decision, no sadness at all the time I had wasted whilst being in a coma. Nothing. I wondered if this was how it felt to die, but I was soon proven wrong.
Soon, the white light began to fade. Everything around me became grey and cold. I was still lying down, not able to move, or rather too scared to. I lay there for some time, until I decided to try and move. Suddenly, my arm twitched. But this time, along with the similar feeling came movement. I opened my mouth and took a deep breath of the cold air. Joy and relief had overcome me. I turned my head, and saw my arm lift up, slowly. My arm felt as if it was filled with metal, but I knew this was because I hadn’t used my muscles in over a year and a half. Still, I was able to move. I felt alive. It felt delightful to be able to move an arm, something I have always taken for granted.
I wished I could stand up, but my body had just awakened from a deep sleep, and so it didn’t obey me. All I could do so far was to roll over, pressing my face against the cold ground. Still, I was enjoying every feeling. The coldness on my face was worth a thousand times of happiness, a thousand memories.
After numerous attempts, I was able to sit up. I turned my head back, exercising my stiff neck, to try and understand where I was. But all I could see was mist. I wondered if I was dead, or alive, or dreaming - either way, I didn’t care. Now that I could control my body, I didn’t care where I was. Because, even in my dreams, I continued to be still. Actually, I stopped having dreams about six weeks into my coma. My dreams consisted of blankness, or jagged memories attempting to make their way out of the back of my head. But now, it felt real. I felt real. Finally, I was thanking the gods for letting me attempt to escape. Finally, a decision I had made changed my life for the better.
Still not being able to stand, I pulled myself along the ground into the mist. Soon enough, I was able to recognise something small on the road a couple of metres from me. As I got closer, I realised it was simply a rock. But to me, it was a precious jewel. I reached out and grabbed the rock with my heavy hand. Shivers ran down my back from excitement; I ran my fingers along its surface, held it in the palm of my hand, and then carefully put it back where it belonged. After realising I still could not stand, I continued my crawl. I got stronger with every time I pushed myself off the ground, got stronger with every breath, every tension in my muscle. Finally, I could stand on my knees, which never was a grand achievement for me, before. But now, it was a triumph. I looked around again, now starting to actually wonder where I was.
I suddenly knew I wanted to sleep, but I couldn’t allow myself to do that. I was too excited to discover everything around me again, like a newborn baby - curious and fearless. But the mist was too thick to see very far. All I could do was crawl along the empty road to somewhere. Then, I could see buildings. Shapeless at first, but gaining detail with every push, they stood high above the dirty road, but were empty, and as grey as the mist. It wasn’t long before I realised that I could walk with my back straight. Minutes dragged on, and I was slowly getting to some kind of settlement. Little did I know that it was abandoned, very recently. Unfortunately, my energy only lasted for so long. As soon as I was near a doorstep, my weakness and tiredness gave in. I started to look around me, studying my surroundings. The walls of the buildings were shedding grey paint, most windows exposed sharp shiny edges of dim, broken glass. Some pieces had fallen out into the oily looking puddles on the dry ground. The tall trees which have planted their roots deep into the soil, let the wind pass through and shake their faint, weak leaves. Moreover, there was an oppressing silence. I didn’t quite remember what a city looked like, as I have lived in the country most of my life. I dragged myself across the doorstep, and pressed my back against the wall. Near me was a small puddle of water, I leaned over to see my reflection. But, what I saw was far from anything I could have expected.
I had golden, shimmering hair, and bright green eyes. Now, all I could see was a hollow face drained of blood, and thin white hair. My eyes were the colour of the world around me - grey and empty. I moved away - the sight was terrifying. I didn’t look alive. I mean, I expected to look different after being in a coma for such a while, but I didn’t expect to look like a ghost. My whole body looked weak and drained of energy, of blood. I felt sick, so I turned away and stared into nothingness. Suddenly, all my happiness vanished into the mist, and my hopes turned into unanswered questions.
Am I dead?
That question kept bothering me. I had no idea where I was, what I was meant to do, I wasn’t sure of anything at all. I almost couldn’t recognise my own reflection. I felt lost and alone now.
But what did I expect? If I was adventurous enough to separate my mind and my body...
A sudden breeze made me freeze in place. At first, I thought it was the wind, but the dry leaves on the ground didn’t move an inch. And then I knew I wasn’t alone. Because of my sudden worry, I was breathing heavily, to the point that it hurt to expand my fragile lungs. And then, I heard footsteps. I lifted my eyes and saw a boy, no older than sixteen walking in my direction. He looked terrified, lost and confused, and maybe that’s why I didn’t see him as a threat - I was in a similar state of mind. I stood up, slowly, not to alarm him. I didn’t want him to run away from me, I would love to find something about where I was from this boy. His brown hair was falling upon his dark eyes, he looked weak and fragile. I also noticed a huge wound on his right arm, half-healed, crimson blood forming a protective shell over the cut. He kept staring down, watching his tired feet drag across the tarmac. I guess I couldn’t do anything to make him aware of my presence, so I simply stood and watched. Finally, the boy lifted his head, only for his eyes to shine terror. I didn’t move, but couldn’t imagine what I should do next. Should I speak? Should I step forward? Instead, I forced out a small smile. The boy couldn’t take his eyes off me - he just stared, also afraid to make a move. This dragged on for longer than I expected, so I slowly opened my mouth, and spoke:
‘Can you see me? Can you... see me?’
He didn’t reply, but seemed to relax a little. Finally, he nodded. Slowly but surely, I began moving forward, towards him. After the distance between us had shortened for me to see him very clearly, he stepped back, still afraid.
‘Don’t fear me - I am as confused and frightened as you are’.
The boy replied quietly, but in a clear voice:
‘You’re a spirit.’
‘I have no idea who I am’.
The boy looked down again, and muttered:
‘I could say the same about myself.’
He looked right into my eyes then, and presented himself:
‘I’m Delem. I am a deserter, and probably deserve to die’.
I took another step forward, trying to make him feel more comfortable with me. If he was a deserter, then he could just as well be a soldier, and can tell me about the war.
‘I am not here to bring you to justice, Delem. I am simply an observer. But I have awakened from a long sleep, and have no idea how the world has changed.’
I felt more confident, more strong. A sudden warmth flowed through me, a wave of energy. It was so wonderful, and I have felt joy, for the first time in years. Delem began talking, this time more careful in choosing his words:
‘Well, I don’t know much about how the war started. But all I know was that we found a new form of life on an asteroid, brought it closer to the Earth, and discovered ... you guys. Spirits. I don’t know how the spirits and humans became enemies.’
I was surprised, and not sure I understood that clearly:
‘So, you are fighting a war, whilst not knowing what for?’
‘In some way, yes. Please... step away, I feel very weak every time you step closer’.
Suddenly, I knew that all the positive emotions I have been getting from this boy, this deserter, who I knew nothing about, but seemed like someone with a good heart. I stepped away, just as he had asked, and felt my senses calm down and positive emotions fade. Though, I continued the conversation:
‘Is that why you deserted?’
‘Because I didn’t know what I was fighting for. And, in that battle, I wasn’t fighting spirits. I was ordered to kill my own. I couldn’t. I was meant to be killed, but I managed to escape.’
I was so impressed by this boy’s actions. He deserted, escaped death, and now stood, talking to someone he didn’t know, someone strange. He can’t trust anyone in this world, but he chose to talk to me.
‘Delem, you have a good heart. I can feel it.’
He looked down again, and I could clearly see the shame hidden in his eyes.
‘I fought those who opposed the military - those who thought that spirits were good, and we should leave them alone. I was told I was going to fight holograms, and instead, I was given orders to shoot the ones who didn’t agree with our views.’
I stepped away - I could see how I was draining his energy, without even noticing it. Delem sat down on the ground, and his helpless eyes looked up to me.
‘You must be a spirit. If you want my soul, you can take it. All you need to know is that it’s worthless and will be of no pleasure to take.’
‘Delem, I have woken from a coma. I don’t know if I am a spirit or not.’
Suddenly, Delem put his arms forward and put his palms together, as if to pray to me:
‘Please, take my pain. I can’t take it anymore. Please... I try to run away, I try to force myself to be stronger, but I can’t. Please, just take it... away....’
Tears started streaming from his eyes. I didn’t know what to do once again. It seemed like such a weird thing for me: to see someone bleed water out their eyes. But I know what he felt. It’s a natural instinct, even though I don’t even remember seeing anyone cry. I just knew that he was so upset that he wanted me to take his life. But that’s something I certainly didn’t want to do.
‘Delem, this is because of me. You are asking me this because I am standing next to you.’
I turned and walked away a couple of steps. Silence followed, I heard Delem sit up, wipe away his tears, and say:
‘You know, you become darker when you’re close to me. When you’re far, you shine white... just like an angel’.
It'd be better to change the latter to "Then" or something along that meaning. 
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