It was late at night, but he wasn’t sure of the hour, exactly. August twenty-sixth was not a good day for him. He had been trying to push it out of his memory for so long that he had almost entirely forgotten about it. Almost. When his shirt had been removed he had glanced down at his wrists, hoping that the scars would be gone; yet there they were. If for some odd reason the rest of his memory were to fail him, they would always be there to remind him of her.

A constant reminder of her, that’s all those scars were. Not a reminder of what caused them or what happened because of them, but just her. If it hadn’t been for her he would have been dead. At that time, he would have preferred that option. Even now he couldn’t push it out of his mind. He liked Juliet, but he had entirely loved Trust with all his soul. No one would ever be able to replace Trust, and he would never be able to forget her and everything she had done for him.

With a soft sigh, he shifted the sleeping girl in his arms and looked down at his wrist. It stuck out so much, the scar, and that’s why he usually wore his sleeves down now rather than rolled up. Even in the dark it was so easy to see that one day in the past, he had lost control of his life and tried to end it all. She had saved him from himself, intervening as he danced with death. The day was so vivid in his memory that he couldn’t help remembering it as he laid there, unable to sleep as he thought of it.

All he had wanted was for it to end. The letter he had received scared him out of his mind and he didn’t want anyone getting hurt because of him. If he was dead when they got there, they wouldn’t hurt anyone to get to him. That was the only foolproof way. The entire time he was rationalizing it, he was standing in the middle of the bunkroom with a razor to his wrist. Yes, this is the only way, he thought as he glanced at the letter in his hand one more time.

With a deep breath, he cut open the flesh on his wrists, one after the other. He just stood there staring at the letter as blood seeped from his wrists. His vision started going blurry about the time he lost his grip on the paper, and the next thing he knew he was being steered toward a bunk and forced to lay down. He felt something being tied around his arms and he opened his eyes to see a blurry Trust. She told him to try and stay awake, and she left the room, coming back in a few minutes with soapy water.

He wasn’t focusing on what she was saying, but he knew she was trying to comfort him. He could just tell from the tone of voice she was using. Within minutes, there was someone else in the room with them. He could hear Siren and Trust discussing the letter that had fallen to the floor. After the both denounced the truth of it, Siren left to get a doctor. His plan was a failure, apparently.

Even with the tension of the event, after the doctor left Trust asked him if he would take her to the zoo when he was better. That’s what made it even worse when he had to tell her that the letter was true. How could he tell two of the people he cared about most that he had killed someone? He had to tell them, though; they already knew from reading the letter.

He could barely remember Siren’s role in the entirety of the day. She did a lot for him, he remembered, but his focus was on Trust. Right before he’d left with Siren to go to the hospital, she’d softly said, "I don’t want you to die." That was one of the first moments he’d realized he was falling in love with her.

"I didn’t want you to die, either," he whispered, a few tears falling from his eyes. He could barely stand to think of it. That day should have been the end of his torment, but like a guardian angel she came and saved him. Yet on the day when her life was fading, he was absolutely helpless and could do nothing to stop it from happening. The one day he should’ve been there for her he wasn’t, and she slipped through his fingers, never to be there for him again. There are no second chances where life is concerned, and he wasn’t there to save her like she was for him.

Closing his eyes, he slipped his arms around Juliet once more. Sometimes it was hard to remember that the girl in his arms wasn’t Trust. Once he closed his eyes he wasn’t able to look at her and see that she wasn’t. Not to say that he didn’t have feelings for Juliet, it was just that his feelings for Trust had been so strong and everything ended so suddenly and without warning. He wasn’t always able to wake up and remember that she wasn’t there. It had been over six months and he was still having trouble with that.

I miss you, he thought as he started to fall asleep. I’m trying to move on like you told me to, but I can’t. As he slipped into slumber, for the first time in a long time his dreams were about something else. For the past several months, when he’d actually been able to sleep, he’d dreamt about Trust, or the day she died. For once, his dreams were on something else. The future.