*****

"I knew this was meant to be."

Those words just keep echoing. The second she said them, I remembered. I pushed her away. I went toward Liz. I begged. I ran. I knew that I couldn't let go. I couldn't give into those memories. I don't want those memories. I just want Liz and the moments we shared this past year. But the memories won't leave.

I lay here, the savior. Curled up in a fetal position on the floor of my room. Knowing what I have done. Who I have been. Knowledge I neither wanted nor asked for. There is no escaping it now. The memories have returned. They play in my head all the time.

"I knew this was meant to be..."

I smiled when she said that. She was covered in rain. No, not rain. Water. We were swimming. Her hair lay flat against her head. She splashed water on me. She smiled her crooked smile. And she whispered those words to me.

The time had come. I was of age and a bride had to be chosen. She had appeared, from where I don't know, as though out of a vision. Dressed all in white. She was tiny and frail. She was beautiful. She would make a perfect queen.

The second time I saw her, she asked to see the pool. I led her to it and watched as her eyes grew wide at the sight of it.

She jumped in with her clothes on. It was like watching a mermaid. I wonder, do I know that now? Did I understand about mermaids? In any case, she glided along until she disappeared from my sight.

I remember. I was smiling, laughing with her. But she didn't come back up. She stayed under far too long. I jumped in, the valiant hero to the rescue.

She laughed as she reappeared. "Did I scare you?"

"No," I replied.

She turned and swam away from me. I followed and grabbed her wrist, forcing her to turn toward me. She was covered in water. My eyes were stinging and clouded. She looked like an angel. And my mouth came toward hers, melding together with her. Images hit me all at once. Images of her, of her life, of her soul.

"I knew that this was meant to be," she whispered.

I knew at that moment too. My queen.

"You knew me before you met me."

That is what she said next. I knew her before I met her. I loved her before I knew her. It was as though she had awakened something in me that I hadn't known was missing.

"I love you forever," she would say when we were alone. I would look into her sweet, innocent eyes and echo the words back.

"I remember you're a killer..."

She's a killer. As I lay here on the floor, I want to remember that. She's a killer. She took life from me.

"I've never killed anyone."

She was telling the truth though. She's never killed anyone. She is pure. She is perfect. My queen.

I killed. I am the one. And I lay here, with tears streaming down my face, trying to forget. But the memories won't fade.

"People die. It cannot be helped." Did I say that?

"It can, Max. You are our leader. You can put a stop to this," she said. I looked into those eyes and I was filled with contempt. She knew what had to be done. It was unfair of her to put it all on me.

I pushed her away and stormed out of the room. I followed my destiny at that moment. A war was necessary. It could not be helped.

I was the leader. I led them into a war. I remember everything. I remember bodies decaying. I remember lost eyes looking to me for guidance. I remember my armies rushing out at my command.

"Michael's been doing this all his life, you know. Always thinking he knows better than us, but always just getting us into more trouble."

"What exactly did you think you would accomplish?" I yelled. Michael's face remained as stone.

"I was following your orders-"

"My orders? No, Michael, I do not recall ordering you to kill two dozen innocent people."

"You ordered the kill!" Michael screamed.

I did. Michael took the blame. Michael always took the blame. He had to clean up my mistakes.

I am the killer. I am the one who cost millions their lives. And as I lay here, I remember the day that I killed one to many.

"She is dying, Max," Isabel whispered.

I could not think, I could not move. Isabel was weeping. Michael was, as always, like stone.

Isabel's eyes were pleading. Save her, she was thinking. Save her. My queen.

"How did this happen?" I asked, my voice wavering more than I would have liked.

Isabel turned to Michael. His gaze dropped.

"She is supposed to be protected from this kind of thing," I said. Where was I? What could have been more important than her? My head was racing. Thoughts wouldn't take shape.

An idea, though, finally began to form. And I knew what I had to do. For the good of my people. For destiny. I had to let her go. I took the woman most precious to me and I gave her up for destiny.

"The people will understand why we have to continue fighting," I said calmly. "This will be a rallying point."

And I held my hands still and her life slipped past me. And I threw myself on top of her and wept. An ocean of tears for my love.

"What happens now Max?"

I killed her. I had the power to save her and I let her go. She lay before me, dying, and I let her go.

I had reasons. Her death would allow others to live. Her death would allow me to live. I chose my life over hers.

I came to earth with her. I left her behind. Why did I do that?

I saved a woman's life on earth. I fell in love with that woman. I want that woman more than I can stand.

And yet, when my queen, my angel came to me, I pushed her away. Again. Even though I remember. Even though the only reason that I am even here is because of her. Even though I promised to love her forever.

"Sometimes it's hard to move forward with your future until you can figure out your past."

I am the killer. I am the one who made the decision that killed my wife. I killed her that others might live.

I am not the savior. She is.

*****

"It made me feel things about myself I didn't like. Like there was this whole side of me I never even knew about." -Max, "Four Square"