The last gutural scream knocked me into darkness; once again.

But this time the darkness was overwhelming. My memories were back and with it waves of grief and sadness. The sheer power of emotions left me baffled, it felt as if my insides were torn apart and burned at the same time.

Inside of the darkness the faces of my friends appeared. Happy and alive they gazed at me with a brilliant smile. My family gave me loving looks, their eyes saying 'Let's meet again!'. But it will never happen.

Soon after the faces distorted, some splattered with blood, charred black and bits and pieces of flesh missing. Others, my family to be exact, were red-eyed. I could already imagine my mother sitting in our old house, waiting for a call or the like. The police knocks, introducing themselves, asking if she could have a seat. The eyes of my parents widening as the officers mention my name, ask if I was their son and then the dreaded question my parents would ask; 'Officer is my son alright?', or something like that. The officers fall silent, slowly reaching out for my mother, holding her shoulders. She trembles, collapses into her old couch, her hands pulling on her hazelnutbrown hairs, leaving bloody spots, with the same rythm as her tears fall.

The thoughts terrified me, I loved my family dearly. As a kid I sometimes played with the idea of ending my own life only to not witness my family's death as I was the youngest.

They were my only family. My ONLY! And yet I was taken away from them, they were taken away from me. I didn't want this!

My cheerful brothers, my worrying mother and my laid-back father. I wanted to be together with them.

I screamed out in the darkness. [FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!...], over and over again. The roaring silence that answered back caused extreme anguish inside of my already broken heart, nobody would answer me; I was alone, in this darkness and in the light.

I prayed the darkness away that overshadowed me. 'All was just a dream', I hoped.

It was then that something inside of me snapped, it fell apart like a house of cards in the wind. My heart dulled and my emotions seemed clogged. 'After extreme trauma the mind proceedes to eradicate the cause of this specific trauma to prevent it and secure survival. Mostly its down scaling of emotions, denial, etc.'. I could only give a wry smile as the knowledge popped out of my mind.

What use would it have now? And to be honest I really appreciated the work my brain did and I would even prefer permanent memory loss or the like to occur. That way I wouldn't have to walk around with the knowledge that I lost my most precious people.

Sadly the 'emotional limiter' was barely able to keep up with the growing heartache. At worst I could die from 'broken heart syndrome'.

'Ohhh the irony!', I got a new life but the robbing of my old life could cause a sudden death in this new life of mine. What sense would that make? I got a new life just to experience pain and then a meaningless death?

'No! I won't freakin' die!', I tried to steal myself. If I die it would be all for naught.' Why not dedicate this life towards my family? Live it to the best of my abilities and treasure the memories in my broken heart. As long as I could remember them they weren't really lost, maybe there was even a way to get back?! It was a new life, a new world, a new chance after all.'

'What the heck am I talking about?', I really did try to psyche myself up but who would expect from a person to so easily cope with their own death?

'Maybe, time... yeah time will be all that is needed...'. I sighed, the darkness and the faces receded. I would have to live a new life from now on.

New faces, new people, new memories and friends to be made.

The darkness lit up, my closed eyes slowly revealed themselves.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

I looked around. I was lying inside of a wooden cradle. My head could only slightly turn, making me gaze at the dark brown ceiling for roughly half an hour. The room was lit by glowing stones that were imbeded into the ceiling. Either there was a chemical reaction happening inside of the unkown mineral or this was one of the rumored worlds with 'magic' that was so often talked about in lightnovels. I really hoped for the first as fantasy archetypical 'magic' could not be explained by any form of science. Energy waves or magnetic fields would consume to much energy to fit in a humanoid creature, so even those explanations would be flawed.

My ears perked up as faint footsteps resounded from out of the room. This was my chance to draw attention, my stomach was killing me and as far as I understood I was a baby and needed the nutrition dearly.

I was shocked by how well I was fitting into the situation. 'Maybe I did cope better with my death? Who knows.'. That thought has proven itself as wrong.

The moment I thought back to my family the tears started to flow non stop. Hot, nay, boiling and salty tears ran down my cheeks. They burned on my skin yet I couldn't stop them. One cry after the other, ever growing louder, escaped my tiny throat. The burning hot tears flowed like rivers and seemed nigh infinte.

The footsteps outside became hurried, a door swung open and soon two hands lifted me up to a wrinkled face. The face was gentle and warm, it had a female touch and radiated your typical grandmother aura.

"Nyriem Ishtar Isk Hynir.". Although the beauty of her face was taken by time, her voice was still as soft as silk. Coupled with her bed of white hair, threads of silver, and her steel grey eyes made her a beacon of security. The foreign words chimed like the rythmic play of a dozen harps.

"Nyriem Inshir Tomil Myhril.". I had no idea what she said but it soothed my pained heart. The tears unwillingly cralwed back and my screams turned into soft whails.

"Muy'yiem Hyn Ashir.". The woman said and hugged me against her chest. Her scent remembered me of my own grandparents, alas they died when I was younger. The elderly lady continued to soothe me with words, or rather a song. The tone was melancholic and at the same time jolly. It reminded me of a heroic fairytale, a tale of tragedy and romance and I liked it.

The calming melody made me relax, my tears stopped eventually and my mind was at ease. I gave into the growing sensation of sleepiness.

I felt my body being carried into another room. After a while the old woman handed me over to another pair of smaller and more tender hands. They felt warm, even more so than the gentle hands of the granny. They felt right.

My face was pressed against a soft mound. Although I felt tired, the moment my faced touched the warm mound and the slightly hardened tip I was wide awake. 'Breastfeeding?!'. It felt uncomfortable as an adult to be force-fed like a child, even more so when the person in question was aware of the act.

Her chest was getting steadily closer, my head craned further away from it. It was imperative for me to get my dose of breast milk, to strengthen my immune system, but I was still reluctant about it. Sadly my instincts and the empty pit in my stomach forced me. I felt the nurturing liquid flowing down my throat as I greedily sucked while I shed manly tears. 'There was still so much to endure. So much to discover. Huh....'. I sighed in my mind. I was an adult, yeah, but being thrown in a new environment and losing any connection to your family would even make the elderly crazy.

With warmth spreading through my system I embraced the well deserved sleep. Tomorrow would be a new day.