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A Look Back

As Roger Smith lay on the cold ground, a tear streamed gently down his cheek. His wounds gushed with spurts of crimson pain. The snowflakes landed on his face, then disappeared as if they never existed. His eyes were swollen to the point of near-blindness. And yet, he wasn't sad. Nor was he afraid. But he was worried. What would happen? The protector of Paradigm City would be no more. Who could uncover the truth? His left eye glanced beside him. The severed right hand of the Big-O laid a few feet away. He could feel the shards of jagged metal still lodged inside him. Like a million tiny children screaming to get out. But he couldn't feel the pain. All he could feel was a deep disgust. He was ashamed that he couldn't complete his task. What was his purpose? Why did he fight so hard, battle after battle? Just to have it end like this. So pathetic. What would happen to the people? Would they be able to defend themselves? Could they recover their memories? So many questions. So many things left undone. All those who depended on him and Big-O would think that he gave up. That he didn't try his hardest. But if only they knew how hard it was to keep such a heavy weight upon your shoulders. Then, he thought about Dorothy. Would she cry for him? Would she feel the sadness that only humans can? How would she take the news? What could have been in their future? Marriage? Adoption? They could have been so happy. And he thought about Norman. Would he just move on and be someone else's butler? Like nothing happened. The sky seemed to become darker steadily. The winter wind blew against his face. He could sense the pool of blood growing bigger around his arms. Brushing against his fingertips. Now, the tears were flowing like a small river. How could he fail everyone? How could he be such a loser? Everyone would be so disappointed in him. Dorothy, Dastun, Norman, Angel, Big Ear, the citizens of Paradigm. About an inch of snow had accumulated on Roger's chest. It was so beautiful. It filled his heart with a sort of tranquility. He was so angry, yet at peace with himself. He sighed softly, then closed his eyes one last time. The memories of his former life flowed into nothingness. He just remained still, and accepted his journey into infinity. Roger jerked out of his bed at a breakneck pace. His face was dripping with sweat, and he was breathing heavily. It was still dark out. He sat on the edge of his bed and reflected. He wasn't afraid to let a small tear glide down his cheek. It was so real. Unlike any other dream. Was it a foreshadowing of the future? Or a memory from his past, recovered? He reached over and put his hand on his watch. Then, a sly smile spread across his lips.

The End


 
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