"Everyone here in the hospital is praying. You should be here—" I hang up, not wanting to hear the rest. The word 'pray' sickens me, makes the churning unbearable. them. them all. Pray? Okay, okay, you ing bastard. I will pray for your wife, too... when she is screaming and begging for sweet, merciful death. The scenery changes as I pull through the dark alley. The small park where we used to spend our happy, childhood days. It is staring back at me... like I have done something terribly wrong. The dirty sand pit that we used to waddle in. It is staring back at me... like I am some cold-blooded killer... like I am a filthy excuse for a human being.

Before turning away, to drive on pass torn nerves and open wounds, I catch sight of a young couple laughing and whispering while walking by. They are singing. Singing to each other sweet, sweet love songs. From the dusty silence, her sweet, sweet voice rises... to sing me a lullaby. I can feel my eyes tremble, threatening to tear up again. But... but I must hold it off. As long as I can hold it off, everything will be... will be...

Suddenly, the woman stops laughing, stops whispering, stops singing. Her eyes roll to the back of her head. Her neck is bent at a seemingly impossible angle. is cracked wide with a broken jaw... stretching a ghastly scream.

I rub my stinging eyes and shake my aching head. The young couple continues on their way... still laughing... still whispering.

. I need a drink.

Outside. "Hey mister... hey mister! Do ya got a cig?" I see her without seeing her. She reminds me of something...

Long gone.

Inside. I search. To get away. Her backless dress is olive drab tonight... with the usual dark hair and eyes, contrasting against light skin.

"Hitoya." My first guess. We are made a pair.

I sip.

Her eyes speak more than her lips. Her fingers uncross and cross again.

I sip. One more sip before walking over. As I draw near, I pep-talk myself into acting smooth, I remind myself to remember. Hitoya. I am ready, yet, I find myself frozen, unable to make the first move. So, I stand there... like a dumb mute... waiting for something to happen.

She turns her head and I get a full whiff of her perfume. It is not perfume. I know what it is now. I know.

The stench of death and decay.

"Do you know me?" She asks in a biting tone, obviously annoyed by my lingering presence.

"Yes." Hitoya.

"Do you know my name?" She asks the question as if it is the first.

"Hitoya."

"And what is your name? Do you know your name?"

I sigh.

... I had not though about my own name. I had not thought to remember my own name... only hers. Only hers.

"Do you know your name?" She is especially patient with me tonight.

And, eventually, I answer her. After a long while, I answer. "It's Won. Won Knight. We are made a pair, you and I."

She smiles that knowing smile... and as she digs her nails into my skin, I am made to look. Look deep into her eyes. Charcoal. Onyx. Jet black. Hijacking my entire life... or what is left of it anyway.

"Shall we go on a trip?"

Yes... to our final destination.