Silence in metallic. A bright screen illuminates in a featureless dream-scape. They see me, I don't see them.

I stand above yet blow, high up but they are higher. They see me in a light of waiting. They felt it, and I...

I feel a sadness, a judgement- they are the Nemesis, but I am the Narcissus. I feel timeless breaths of laughter tickle the edges of my sanity, my mind. I have harmed in a way blind to my own eyes, and they are forced to act, gods given gift to life- justice.

I did this.

She speaks, a mother of law and blue skies,

"It's over"

"Who sees this?"

"I do," Fallen speaks, a man yet a boy, who once had been what he never was, in his haste condemns me to a life of guilt and boundless savagery.

Nothing more is necessary.

I wake in tandem with the beating of my heart lighting my eyes, and something sits there- in the back of my mind- an all-knowing, some reason.

It is early morning, in that security I find myself. Perhaps more than once, I check the clock. It measures something I cannot hold, yet find precious and hold dear to me.

I'm so tired of the straight path, the endless bland of life and it's sins; I wake for something different this day, and with spiders and cats painted blue, purple, pink and yellow to line my dreams, this metallic thing. It has something that I have had once before.

A premonition.

I drag myself to the stairs, making my way to the bathroom at the end of the hall. My face is new; my eyes are bright and alive. My youth prides me, but something is missing.

I feed my dog, give him water, greet my felines and hope for the easy day to progress more slowly than it ever has. I want nothing more than peace, and oddly feel that was the last thing I would find.

Coffee is sweet yet bitter, with butterscotch highlights and smoldering heat to drift up, the accent of daylight piercing my slumbered eyes.

I wake my own mother, who greets me lovely melancholy.

"Good morning,"

I return the gesture, pour her coffee, and mull over what I'll say whilst trying to bring it to the surface.

"I had a dream," I say, fear of the Paranormal dissipating as she sits down and composes herself.

"I know."

"I don't know what it means,"

"Who was in it?"

"They were. They spoke at and around me, but never to me, and a boy,"

"His name?"

"Fallen; he was quick to never debate."

I ended the conversation, and with swift catapult like strides, I left.

I never returned.