A blinding flash of light touched the eyelids still closed. Clear caramel gazed directly at the top of a cloudless blue sky. The dark-haired youth sat straight up and looked around. Waking up in a bed of blooming dandelions. Warm air follows the pad of pale white skin. His fingers flick a dandelion with a single drop of dead white cotton flying at the wind.
Nathan had slapped some dandelions in his clothes. It spread a little because he was lying on a dandelion. Some are even attached to his head.
"Dean! Vincent! Wyatt! Jeremy!" He stood up, squinting in every direction in the hope of finding someone other than himself. But nothing. There was only the wind that answered his call.
Never give up, Nathan takes his thin legs. Bet on a hunch he's not sure where he's going. Nathan only wishes that his feet lead him to a place where he gets his answers. A field of dandelions turned into high meadows. Like a maze, he tries to keep going to find a way out.
"What are you doing? Are you crazy?"
"You think you understand him better? Don't talk nonsense! You can only talk without action!"
"Dean? Wyatt?" Nathan's halfway running into a voice source that came out of nowhere.
Silence. It didn't answer and seemed to lift off in the wind. Nathan can't even see round that's covered in dense weeds. He knows now he's trapped and he doesn't know if he can go home or not.
"Deeaaan!!" He exclaimed again. "Wyaaattt!!" Nathan is almost hopeless. The maze is holding on to his body so he can't get out. His breath quickens with his waning step.
Just before his consciousness was lost, he was now on a barren stretch of grass. The tightness in his chest slowly dissipated, like gaining hope. His black eyeballs found a small pebble lined up neatly. Like he was leading him to a place he didn't even know he was in. But little hearts said to follow him, like hypnotized and Nathan walked closer.
Long enough for the very plain under his feet to be transformed into crushed ruins. Nathan's not even sure what the wreckage might look like around him. Cautiously stepped up into the rubble. It cannot stand on its feet, seeing how fragile the debris can be.
"Ouch!"
He almost ran his foot into a gaping hole. Nathan was a little hesitant to continue in his footsteps, he didn't know what danger lay before him. Yet his little heart prefers endless walking. It's like something's pulling him in. Reach for a foothold to the highest ground. Some of his knuckles were scratched by a sharp rock that had been accidentally touched. This was the only point, though, when Nathan reached the top of the rubble.
No signs of life. Even the wind stopped blowing. The heavens darted on a beam of light darting in, as if they had not allowed it. Nathan swallowed his spit, inhaled deeply as he sat in his arms and found a young man. Looks familiar but Nathan's not sure who's been standing behind him.
Standing still in pain as he stumbled, Nathan approached him. Until they were close enough to get Nathan to recognize one of his friends' blonde hair.
"WYATT!"
Nathan exclaimed, but again the wind seemed to carry his voice away. The figure ahead is still upside down. It's not even the slightest turn or turn your head.
"WYATT CAROLUS!"
Still not budging. Nathan was closing in on his chest for some reason. It's like being in a vacuum. He tried to take as much breath as he could, but his efforts remained in vain.
NGIIIIIING—
All sounds suddenly become lost, and time seems to stop spinning. Nathan looked straight at the figure that now began to turn. Wyatt's gaze was so flat that it didn't seem to matter that drops of blood were streaming from his right temple until it soaked his face in half.
"Wyatt~" Nathan's breath is weakening. As no more oxygen came into his lungs. The last thing he saw was a sliver of light coming over him
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.
"Ughh!"
His trepiousness returned to his head. Nathan's rolling around in hope of that headache subsides.
He sat down for a moment and tried to look at the calendar on his phone. He sighed with relief that he had only been asleep one day.
Wait—
Does that mean he skipped school?
Quickly he reached for his backpack. Checking up on her at school. And sure enough, there was a textbook in his bag that was used today. Suggests he's not actually skipping.
Nathan tried to remember again, but it was no use. All he gets is the lingering pain.
"So that was a dream too?"
He believed that what he had experienced was not just a dream. Even the tightness felt very real. Nathan walked over to the bathroom. Washing his increasingly lazy face. Waking up to his shirtless body. No wonder it was so cold. Some rashes were still etched clear across his chest and shoulders. The young man opened the drawer above the sink. The point is no longer to find a cure. But on a pendant he kept most deeply.
His fingers unfurled the locket slowly. He had to be very careful because the silver in his hand was very old.
Nathan was stunned, his gaze grew when he saw a small photograph of his family's heritage. That's all that's left. Didn't know whether to be happy or sad.
"Why don't you take me too?"
Babbling again blame her parents, who didn't even know she was calm or still wandering. Is the afterlife true? Nathan doesn't know. He's not even sure if there's a heaven or a hell. Or perhaps he is a sinner who must be punished even before dying.
Pathetic. Nathan knew he was a coward who could only blame the situation. He dares not challenge the world, dares not walk the slippery slope that could have knocked him down. Intending to open the closet to pick up a garment-this time autumn would allow it to freeze solid —before a note note was discovered.
[] I'm sorry we can't stay with you until you wake up
We buy you a little box of minimarket. you can heat it up with a microwave
Eat as quickly as you can'
—Dean
'Ps; Vincent ran through the rain to buy you food so you had to eat it []
Nathan smiled at the outline. Funny, they can even be heard in his head. You know, they say that if you hear our friends' voices in your head while reading their messages, that means you're very close.
Is it that close? Nathan can't believe they've been friends for so long. At least his days were off because his friends were always by his side.
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A young boy with a genius brain and a straight face just sat there staring at some beetles perched on a yellow tulip. His hand crossed out a white A4 on his hand. Guess the young man was painting that little ladybug.
"What are you drawing, Vincent?"
The young man was a little startled by the heavy sound from behind. The bloated man with the half-bald hair smiled at him.
"I'm sorry," Vincent stooped 90 clicks. He was aware of his mistake of painting in the middle of his part-time job.
The old man laughed in his big voice, patting Vincent on the back hard enough to make the young man cough. "Hohoho.. Be comfortable," Said the man casually and went back to take care of the other plants.
Vincent looked at some passersby in their coats. The world seems old, it's even autumn but it feels like the middle of winter.
[]Bel rings
"Welcome"
A tall boy in a black coat and don't forget a maroon red scarf wrapped around his neck.
"May i help you?" Vincent asked kindly. But in other ways with the young man in front of him, his glaring gaze made Vincent a bit uneasy. "Sir?"
"Oh yes.. Can you get a flower for the sick old lady?" the boy doesn't seem to care much about flowers. He preferred to stare into Vincent's face the whole time.
Vincent was made a mix-up of the young man's actions, but he couldn't get rid of him. His only job is to serve and he will assist in any request from his clients. "Emm... You can take this flower," the young man is showing a white flower with a relatively long stalk. "The flower's name is calla-lilly, signifying genuine affection and feeling. Your sympathy will pass through this flower—"
Vincent seemed very enthusiastic about the flowers in front of him, but the other young men seemed to care less.
"Wrapping up."
"Tsk.." Vincent squeaked because his explanation was cut. "To whom and from whom?"
"Don't you know me?" the stranger asked me back.
Vincent's eyebrows were raised up, he'd never even met each other in the street if it wasn't. At last the young man gave up.
"To Mrs. Lawrence from Ian kendrick."