The smell of burnt flesh could be smelt as a pair of muddied boots traversed the dark cavern as the flames engulfed the area. The sounds of screams erupted in agony as the smell grew worse.
Screams continued for what seemed like hours until a soft thud echoed in the silent darkness. The cries slowly faded, and a small black shadow covered the spot where the stranger had previously stood as the fire fizzled out before fading completely.
A flock of wings could be heard in the distance as red eyes gawked in confusion. In confusion.
A pair of hands reached into the shadows, grasping at nothing.
"What are you doing here?" He growled lowly.
"Why don't you ask yourself that question?" The other voice replied.
A disembodied hand attached to a blackened ethereal cord appeared. It moved toward the edge of the tunnel as a pair of arms formed from thin air as well. These arms reached toward him as they began to drag him forward.
"Stop!" He roared.
The armored man stood there as he ran his fingers through his blond hair, But, his voice was lost amongst the echoes. He felt a sharp pain on his chest as one arm ripped itself from him, leaving behind a bloodied mess. The black ethereal chords dragged him deeper into the darkness as he was pulled over the sharp rocks which littered the ground.
While another hand grabbed the other wrist before pulling him along. They traveled deeper and deeper before stopping in front of a large black rift. They both climbed up onto the edge of the rift, the darkness reaching beyond it and engulfing everything within. Their hands held each other tightly as their faces were inches apart.
"My child…" The voice muttered, "You cannot escape the truth."
His face cut up of the rift, causing deep cuts to bleed profusely. As he struggled to hold back tears of frustration, they slowly lowered themselves into the abyss as he called out to them.
Their bodies merged into one before disappearing altogether. He woke up in a cold sweat, sweating profusely in bed.
"Van! Van come here please!" A voice shouted.
Van quickly got dressed as he ran down the steps to notice the smell of something familiar burning. When he opened the door, he saw his mother standing by the stove with a wooden spatula in her hand, stirring what appeared to be brown fried rice.
"Mom! What happened? Are you alright?" Van asked concerned.
"Oh, Van, it's nothing. Nothing really. I made some extra fried rice since you haven't been feeling good lately," She explained.
"Thank you. You didn't have to do that," he smiled. "You know, it is always nice to eat home cooked meals together. Especially when dad isn't home."
Wings of birds outside the kitchen window startled him from his thoughts. He quietly approached the window, hoping that it might calm the strange creatures down. But, they didn't seem interested in anything at all as they flew off quickly. Van sighed.
Everything felt surreal, like he didn't belong to this reality on earth. The way everything seemed to shift and disappear without warning. Like his memories were fake, as if they were never real.
Maybe it was just stress…
Were birds really birds? Maybe they were just an illusion created by his subconscious.
"Hmm?" His mother questioned. She turned around to see Van staring blankly
at something in the horizon.
Cat almost look like dragons and dogs like winged beasts … Maybe it was just some weird trick of his imagination that he played on himself.
"I'm fine…" He said, forcing a smile. "Just thinking about school."
The blonde haired boy's notebooks, filled to the brim with fantasies etched in his sloppy handwriting, would never be read in his lifetime. And neither will anyone else who ever looks upon these pages. They'll be forgotten eventually, but, not by him. Those notebooks held every ounce of the truth that had plagued him for years, as well as the secrets buried deep beneath the surface, waiting to be unearthed.
Dinner stared him in the face, but no hunger surfaced in his gut. Instead of being able to feel hungry, he could barely even taste the food, which was probably just another one of his tricks as he often used to play. Though he did enjoy his food, despite the tastelessness.
"Are you sure you're ok?" His mother asked, concern painted across her features as she put her fork down. "You haven't eaten much tonight."
"I'm alright mom. Really. Just tired," He lied.
"That must be it," She said sympathetically. "How about I make you some soup, it'll wake you right up. Then maybe later on, after you go to sleep, you'll be ready for your exams?" She suggested.
"Maybe I should take you up on that…that does sound great...thanks, mom." He smiled.
She smiled back at him and returned to her dinner.
He wasn't exactly excited to see school again after spring break being so long yet, there was still the prospect of attending. If he was honest, though, he would prefer it over staying home. That place only made him think about his father. Thinking about it caused tears to form in his eyes, making him unable to look up towards his parents.
The blonde haired boy just shook it off, however; he had more important things to focus on than dwelling on the past. His mom would be disappointed if he let her down, and besides he hadn't decided which schools he was going to yet. In the meantime, he should focus on getting through this day.
Noticing quickly that his therapist called, he didn't want to answer back, leaving it unanswered. He hoped the message would go away. He didn't want to talk to anyone today, he knew he was likely to snap at them and that wouldn't end well.
Deciding to leave his mobile phone on the coffee table as he passed to go upstairs down on his bed, he picked up the book he had laid on his desk, the cover decorated in colorful designs.
There was always something calming about reading the history of the universe. There were moments where he forgot about how awful life could be, and he truly believed that everything was possible, no matter how bad things could be.
The dream felt way too real for it to be anything else, he thought. He couldn't explain the sensations he felt during his dreams, or why he saw everything as if he was living it. Was it something that was happening inside his head, or was he experiencing it?
A blurred line between reality and dreams seemed to haunt him, He couldn't tell, and he hated it. Not knowing what was real or what was just a hallucination. And, unfortunately, none of his teachers seemed to understand.
It was almost as if they wanted him to fail because they wanted him to feel inferior. Perhaps they had been influenced by his father, as it usually took an unusual amount of motivation to get him to do something.
The sun was setting as he heard a knock on the door, who had walked into his bedroom. "Hey sweetie. Can I ask why you're sitting there all alone in the dark," she asked?
He nodded his head and motioned for her to sit next to him on his bed. She placed a hand on top of his head as she sat beside him.
"I am so sorry you suffer like this Van…" She sighed.