What a storm leaves behind (Mha x All Might's daughter)

Dream

First Person POV:

I stood at the top of a mountain, watching the clouds pass by. The sun was going down slowly, leaving streaks of pink, orange, and red in the sky. I felt a hand tighten around mine and looked up. My mother looked back down at me and smiled.  I heard a rustling noise behind me, and turned to see what it was. 

Dad was tangled up in what looked like it was supposed to be a tent. A few feet away from him there was  a grill. I remember this. We always loved camping. It really made up for the time my parents spent working. The memory continued exactly how I remembered it. The strong wind blew the tent up into dad's face, and my hair into mine. Mom couldn't stop laughing at us. He chased after her and I joined in, trying to keep up. My short legs couldn't, so dad picked me up and threw me up on his shoulders. We grilled and played games. Mom and I set the tent up while dad put the grill away. I watched the stars through the window at the top of the tent. My dad on my left, mom on my right. 

As I blinked, I felt the memory shift. 

I blinked one last time and took in my surroundings. I was back in the warehouse mom died in. It was quiet. I was alone by the door. I heard soft sobs, and little sniffles. I saw my dad shaking, my mother laying in his lap. I closed my eyes and shook my head. Make this end. Not again. Not again. Not again.  I felt a strong arm lift me up and hold me close. I opened my eyes to see my father's face. He looked so broken. In his other arm he held my mom. She wasn't moving. 

I saw him look down at me. He smiled softly and said "Go to sleep Y/n." Huh? I did as I was told and closed my eyes. I felt my dad set me in the car and close the door. I was awake the whole ride back, trying my best to be quiet and not cry. That's not what- When we got home he carried me into the house and to my bed. That night I stayed awake, listening to my father's sobs. He cried for what felt like hours, until he either fell asleep, or just couldn't cry anymore.

I felt the memory shifting once again.

I saw myself laying in bed, asleep. I watched as the door opened and my father walked in. He walked slowly towards my bed and sat down next to me. He brushed a few hairs out of my face and kissed my forehead. He made sure I was tucked in tight and left the room. The memory continued, showing that same scene over and over again, except it wasn't the same. In one, I had different PJ's, in another my bedsheets had been changed. The more I watched the scene the older the me in it got. It looked like he was doing it every night. Sometimes, he'd fill up my water bottle, or he'd plug in my phone, but no matter what, he always made sure to tuck me in.

Is this a dream? He didn't do this. Did he?

The memory seemed to slow, and showed what looked like the night before the USJ attack. I saw me facetiming my friends. I saw dad listening through the door for a moment before he turned back and went downstairs. It was too early for him to say goodnight. Instead of the memory ending with me going to bed, it followed him down into the living room. He slumped back on the couch, staring at the wall. The photo from my mom's last birthday was hung up again. He looked down at a piece of paper in his hand. It looked like it had some sort of  script on it, or bullet points? He crumpled the paper and tossed it in the trash, turning on the TV. 

It looked like he had put a disk in already. He pressed play and the movie began. It was my mom's favorite. The movie ended as soon as it had started and my dad spoke. "Happy Birthday Hashina. I don't know what to do without you." He checked his watch and walked back upstairs. He pressed his ear to my door and knocked twice. When I didn't answer he gently opened the door and walked in. He did the same as he always had. Sitting by me for a moment, and tucking me in. "I love you. Sleep well Starlight."

The memory shifted one last time. 

I found myself in that same place where I had seen my mom the day I died. Soon enough, my mother appeared next to me. "Mom!" I wrapped my arms around her. "I had to show you some memories Y/n. I don't know if you're remembering the truth, but what you just saw is what happened these past ten years." She got right to explaining. "No! I remember what happened and it wasn't that! He blamed me so he was always mad. He wouldn't- I- he doesn't- UGH!" I sighed in defeat. "That can't be right." Warm tears fell down my cheeks. "He ignored me all this time. It's not true." My mom shushed me and pulled me into her chest, letting me cry. 

"He hasn't always been the best father, but nobody ever is. He's always tried to do what he thought was best for you, because he cares. I think someone has been trying to tear you two apart by changing your memories. He seems to remember certain things the same as you, even though it's not right." We stayed like that for what felt like hours. "I have to let you wake up now Y/n. Please try to remember something from tonight. I love you."

That was it. 

At least I thought so.

My mom disappeared. The room turned black. I spun, looking around the room. I noticed a mirror where my mother once sat. I looked at it. I looked at me. I was glaring. I felt my face. I didn't feel like I was glaring. "It's all your fault. You did this. He never loved you. She's lying. Why would you trust her?" My reflection spoke. I've heard that voice before, but it's not me. "I am you." My reflection smiled at me. Before I could do anything I felt my arm shooting forward, my strength quirk activated. The glass shattered, leaving an empty frame. 

A figure came into view. I couldn't make out a face, but they were tall. The figure reached out and touched my head. I felt a burning pain. The figure laughed. I've heard that laugh before. "Wait! You're back?"

I woke up.

<1147 words>

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

I love angst you guys. >:D I really appreciate all of you who have read this far. You guys are just the coolest. I hope you enjoy. I'll probably be posting again tomorrow, and you can expect a new chapter at least once a week. 

-Albion Orion