Chapter one: Nothing but a memory

The rain berated against the window unforgivingly. The rain was heavy and beat upon everything it met giving a loud and even thud thud thud. The Gusts of wind slapped the trees screaming and wailing supremacy. Thunder boomed across the sky rapping its baritone voice, followed by the cruel caress of lightening. The buildings rocked from the force and little children cried, this was a bad day.

The constant weather added nothing to his mood. It seemed the gods were mocking him, with it's violent ways. It seemed that the sky was crying of turmoil. Crying out of turmoil and anger. Lashing out at anything and everything that got in it's way. He often felt like that, violent one moment and totally calm and eerily silent the next. Just like the rain, which could beat a building into oblivion and erase cities and towns but at the same time, give life to forests and animals and keep mankind going with it's gentle caresses upon the land.

Aquila scoffed as he opened the window, instantly getting slapped by the winds and harsh rain. Everyday was a bad day. He mused how he always was getting slapped by either nature or by someone else who found him 'interesting'. He never fought back not the slightest bit. He always thought he got what he deserved since that day. The day, it was just like this...raining hard and harsh.

A lovely lady with gray hair and purple eyes looked down upon the little boy. The little boy being Aquila of a tender age. She smiled sadly as her tears mixed with the rain beginning to beat on them. He stood next to his twin brother, a tender age also, white hair drenched by rain and purple eyes wide with innocence. She began to speak words fumbling out and running into each other. She was shaking terribly by the cold and the fact she had to give up her babies. Aquila couldn't make out anything she was saying, being drowned out by the screeches of thunder and cars and drunken screams. He did catch goodbye as she leaned down and kissed them good bye. She turned around to leave. Lyra was running after her, smiling as he was not sure what was going on.

"Mommy! Wait up, please?!" When Lyra caught up she pushed him back. Saying more words that could not be heard, she sprinted off leaving the two to fend off for themselves. Aquila felt his eyes water as he watched his mother leave, he fell to the ground crying, saddened that their salvation would leave them to rot like this. In the worst part of the city no less. Lyra wobbled back to his brother he fell down with him as they held for an embrace, crying together like too lost kittens..

So the chain had begun

~*~End of Flash Back~*~

He felt the tears well up all over again. The memories rising up. Again and Again, catching him at his most weak moments and tearing him apart from the inside out. He quickly wiped them way, he promised himself he wouldn't cry. Although it seemed every time he promised he wouldn't do something he usually ended up doing so. And when he promised he would do something, he wouldn't. Finding it worthless to do something for someone else. He never was valuable to anyone or anything, except for a good fuck for some passerby. He was however everything in the world to his twin brother Lyra...

He felt a smile grace his lips. He adored his brother, honestly he looked up to him. Lyra was everything he was not, trusting, happy and alive. Being able to say hello and his name with out restraints. He always shielded Lyra from the darker things. He took care of him, looked out for him, protected him. He wanted him to remain innocent and sweet until the day his last breath comes. He shivered, as the rain soaked him to the bone. He sneezed and it wracked his body. He refused the move from where he was. He enjoyed the dark twisted game the gods played with him.

He closed the window with difficulty, the wind was putting up a fight with him. When he heard the window shut close with a sharp click, he leaned against it. The window vibrated and rocked as it was getting beat too. He closed his eyes, wishing to taste good freedom. Not the burned and broken one he constantly clung too, for he feared if he let go..he would drown in the dark abyss, never to see the dark of day.

Being lost in his thoughts was always a bad thing. He would always think of the worst because he had not a positive thing to think of. Maybe the fact that he was living was a gift, but why did he see it as a damning curse? He saw things in grays and blacks and violent shades of red and purple. The kiss of death and graced his lips more then once, constantly, everyday it seemed. He wondered why the fatal kiss never sucked his soul. He had heard that attachments keeps you here, and the fact that someone needed you, wanted your company. So...one person could hold you back from the sweet kiss of death eh?

One Person can make a difference. One person can change the world for the better. Can one person change the world for the worse? Why yes, the one person can. He wasn't blind to all the murders and rapes going on. He gasped as another memory came and threw him for an emotional roller coaster.

He winced. Although the wounds were healing, and the pain fading in the distance. It still hurt where it mattered. The heart, the soul, the fact that he had got raped..again. In his own house no less. What a shame. Another blow to his deteriating pride. He was mildly surprised to find out he still HAD pride. Seeing as how much it was broken and shattered and poked with a stick. Constantly. .. Poked would be an understatement...beaten sounds better.

Some days he feels shades of red against him. Comforting him cruel mocking him in the process. How could he sink so low? To cut himself..mutilate on a daily basis...It had all started by an accident, where he fell on some glass, slitting both his wrists and his hands. Damn Drunkards. It felt remotely good. He could feel his eyes widen as he choked back the sobs. He thought he was going to die...

He closed his eyes and let his mind take him where-ever he wanted. He always would ask the question over and over. Who am I? Besides some twice-cursed boy? Burdened to be a slave to who ever crossed his path? To Protect the little innocent boy that was dearest to him? Why this..

This was hell. Constant and burning and reminding you that you can not except its fiery embrace. Burning you down to the ground leaving you with nothing but your ashes. The ashes that would scatter away in the wind. This was his life. His hell hole. He could feel his life burning down into nothing. Dampened and beat into the earth by rain. And when that passed. He would be nothing more then a forgotten Memory. He would be, one day, the Forgotten Memory of Aquila Mathews.