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Description
An angry purple stains the skies, blotting out the stars far above. Off in the distance, brilliant shards of lightning are thrown down to the ground, each flash reflecting off jagged mountain peaks. A slow, rumbling echo filters across the wastelands.

I stand here, next to a lone, withered tree. A breeze whips up and quickly escalates into a hurricane, yet for all its force I can still stand upright, eyes clenched firmly shut. When the winds have died down, the tree is not only still there, but it has returned to life, its branches sprouting new growths. It is a lone survivor in a land of sadness, only now finding a companion in myself, another survivor.

The ground falls away yet I remain held in place, suspended in mid-air. The storm is closer now, lightning lashing out, as if beckoning towards me. As it snakes across the sky it burns after-images into my eyes that seem to flash with incandescent colours. It is a dangerous light show, beauty that fades away all too quickly. A rip in the clouds, and a larger bolt strikes down, tearing through the sky and biting deep into the air where soil once was. Fire rises up, expanding rapidly and engulfing me. Yet there is no heat, no pain. It simply occurs and all I can do is float there, allowing myself to be consumed.

The dream is never quite the same. In the world that can only exist within my subconscious, a strange variation of events is played out every night. I see things that I never could, things that are impossible. Yet though my conscious mind is rational enough to laugh and dismiss them, there has always been that one part of me that has hoped and wanted what happens to be real, for this life to be wiped clean and reborn in a place of happiness, excitement, romance.

Not that my life is exactly the opposite of that. Walking to and from school every day is an adventure in itself, a journey of make believe. Sometimes I pretend to myself that it’s not a return to that familiar place, with the noises of pubescent children echoing everywhere, but a trip to some place where I can be more. A film star perhaps, something where I could be admired by multiple people, where I wouldn’t have to put up with the taunts and mocking. Of course, that’s all only a fantasy, and will probably never come to pass.

We’re visiting Holly today. My little sister’s been in hospital for awhile now, and I’ve only recently begun questioning when or if she’ll be coming home. As always, Dad’s quiet on the drive over. I think he still blames himself. I’ve forgiven him, even though I never really believed he did anything wrong, but the guilt is obviously still buried within him. I hate these silences though. They seem to further threaten our family’s weakened threads, and I’m worried that one day, it’ll simply vanish, just like one of my dreams.

The familiar flights of stairs greet us at the hospital. I know the way to Holly’s room instinctively by now—I prefer to not have to ask for assistance, always been stubborn like that. Dad says that I got that particular trait from my mother, and I smile to myself about that as he pushes open the door to my sister’s room.

Silence fills this place too, much to my dismay. Well, not total silence. The life support machine has its own distinctive hum, broken by an occasional beeping noise to let us know Holly’s heart still beats. Stepping over to her bed tentatively, I grasp hold of her hand lightly. Dad reckons that her blonde hair’s gone grey since she got here. I haven’t seen any difference.

G’day sis, I say to her quietly. Are you there?

Endless corridors. I run down them, the sounds of my footsteps echoing dully in my ears. The world around me is a whitewashed one with no end. I reach an intersection and skid to a halt, glancing down each of the possible corridors to follow. Each is exactly the same, just more repetitions of hospital hallways: sterile, cold, unforgiving.

I choose a path to run and begin again. It doesn’t really matter where I go, each road will lead back to the same ending. Where am I running to? Am I running from something, or to try and find something? Is there anyone there? I’m still alone.

Finally, a door to break the monotonous walls and blank windows. I charge at the rectangular opening, bursting outwards into a sea of light, a screeching noise that I have never forgotten.

I think I’m going insane.

You’re not insane, she told me, her voice soft as always. This kinda stuff’s normal for us.

I personally have doubts on that. I hear plenty of things about what’s considered normal for those people that are not quite adults. Apparently we all whine about money, stay out too late, and have sex on our minds constantly. I don’t recall ever hearing a claim that normal teens have trouble distinguishing what’s real and what’s not. How do you explain something like that anyway? It just seems sometimes that what I think is real is too unbelievable to exist, that it has to be a dream, or maybe some kind of twisted nightmare. Yet the other place I know, that can’t be real either, the logical part of my mind knows that. This simply leaves me wondering just where the hell I am if both places I exist in seem as fictional as the other.

School is a distraction from these two conflicting realities. I know that it has to exist. It’s never as quiet as anywhere else I go, always a bustling hive of activity, people laughing, talking, being. It’s a place I can go to forget some of the problems in my life, to escape with my friends, with Mel. She’s always believed in me.

Decaying buildings, once full of life, now they teeter on the brink of destruction, old and lonely. That purple sky I know so well looms over them, suffocating their shapes with a dim veil. Above it all hovers a red moon, almost like a circle of dried blood. All is quiet here. No children laugh and play, no adults talking with their neighbours. The road outside is lifeless and the trees and flowers in nearby gardens hang there in shades of grey.

I can walk here, slowly exploring a landscape devoid of life. It feels natural though, almost welcoming. Yet I know that all the while I’m searching for something or someone, a seemingly impossible task in this world. A static seems to cloud the very air I breathe, choking me and cutting me off from everything. A shattering roar, familiar, and light engulfs me once more.

Is everything alright? Mel asks.

Yeah. It was a lie. Dad had been on the phone this morning with the hospital. I knew he’d been trying to keep the noise down, but I could hear his voice choking with barely suppressed emotion. I didn’t need to know what the exact words were, I could tell. My sister was going.

You sure? She tries again, this time touching my arm.

Positive. I sigh as I felt her hand begin to retract, and shook my head. Sorry Mel. Didn’t mean to sound so aggressive.

It’s okay. Her hand finds mine.

Just the simple act of another human holding another’s hand seems to cause so much comfort. I don’t know how that works, but it helps to ease the pain. The problem remains in my mind as our bus conveys a bunch of us students to an excursion. Sometimes I wonder if suicide is an answer. Would that help me to find out which world is real? Ultimately, I have no answer on that, and don’t think I could bring myself to go through with it either.

Sudden noises, breaking through the silence that usually surrounds me. The bus is turning, twisting as if under a mind of its own. The motion is sickeningly familiar and I can hear others screaming in fear. I know where this is going, already know the outcome before it has happened. A shriek, screeching, that shattering roar.

The feeling of wetness is familiar too, and I almost welcome it. It runs into my face and I feel around for Mel’s body, trying to find her. Things have become silent again. She’s still there, lying next to me, but I know already that she is gone. The thought should horrify me, bring me to tears, but I can only give a small smile as I feel fatigue setting in one last time.

I’ll see you there, Mel.

The world is still grey, the sky still blotted in purple hues. My eyes open, and I see things again for the first time since I lost my sight, my family, my life. The world around me, the place in my dreams…only this time it isn’t a dream. Yet for all my hopes, I am still alone.

Or am I? Laughter fills the air around me, the very sound of it colouring the monochrome tones of the world. From all around, people begin to crowd in, surrounding me. My mother and father are there, a smiling couple once again. Holly laughs, her long, curling hair beaming like gold, radiating the light like the sun. And Melissa too, the love of my life not dead but alive, with all of us, in this place where nobody has to be alone.

Description
An angry purple stains the skies, blotting out the stars far above. Off in the distance, brilliant shards of lightning are thrown down to the ground, each flash reflecting off jagged mountain peaks. A slow, rumbling echo filters across the wastelands.

I stand here, next to a lone, withered tree. A breeze whips up and quickly escalates into a hurricane, yet for all its force I can still stand upright, eyes clenched firmly shut. When the winds have died down, the tree is not only still there, but it has returned to life, its branches sprouting new growths. It is a lone survivor in a land of sadness, only now finding a companion in myself, another survivor.

The ground falls away yet I remain held in place, suspended in mid-air. The storm is closer now, lightning lashing out, as if beckoning towards me. As it snakes across the sky it burns after-images into my eyes that seem to flash with incandescent colours. It is a dangerous light show, beauty that fades away all too quickly. A rip in the clouds, and a larger bolt strikes down, tearing through the sky and biting deep into the air where soil once was. Fire rises up, expanding rapidly and engulfing me. Yet there is no heat, no pain. It simply occurs and all I can do is float there, allowing myself to be consumed.

The dream is never quite the same. In the world that can only exist within my subconscious, a strange variation of events is played out every night. I see things that I never could, things that are impossible. Yet though my conscious mind is rational enough to laugh and dismiss them, there has always been that one part of me that has hoped and wanted what happens to be real, for this life to be wiped clean and reborn in a place of happiness, excitement, romance.

Not that my life is exactly the opposite of that. Walking to and from school every day is an adventure in itself, a journey of make believe. Sometimes I pretend to myself that it’s not a return to that familiar place, with the noises of pubescent children echoing everywhere, but a trip to some place where I can be more. A film star perhaps, something where I could be admired by multiple people, where I wouldn’t have to put up with the taunts and mocking. Of course, that’s all only a fantasy, and will probably never come to pass.

We’re visiting Holly today. My little sister’s been in hospital for awhile now, and I’ve only recently begun questioning when or if she’ll be coming home. As always, Dad’s quiet on the drive over. I think he still blames himself. I’ve forgiven him, even though I never really believed he did anything wrong, but the guilt is obviously still buried within him. I hate these silences though. They seem to further threaten our family’s weakened threads, and I’m worried that one day, it’ll simply vanish, just like one of my dreams.

The familiar flights of stairs greet us at the hospital. I know the way to Holly’s room instinctively by now—I prefer to not have to ask for assistance, always been stubborn like that. Dad says that I got that particular trait from my mother, and I smile to myself about that as he pushes open the door to my sister’s room.

Silence fills this place too, much to my dismay. Well, not total silence. The life support machine has its own distinctive hum, broken by an occasional beeping noise to let us know Holly’s heart still beats. Stepping over to her bed tentatively, I grasp hold of her hand lightly. Dad reckons that her blonde hair’s gone grey since she got here. I haven’t seen any difference.

G’day sis, I say to her quietly. Are you there?

Endless corridors. I run down them, the sounds of my footsteps echoing dully in my ears. The world around me is a whitewashed one with no end. I reach an intersection and skid to a halt, glancing down each of the possible corridors to follow. Each is exactly the same, just more repetitions of hospital hallways: sterile, cold, unforgiving.

I choose a path to run and begin again. It doesn’t really matter where I go, each road will lead back to the same ending. Where am I running to? Am I running from something, or to try and find something? Is there anyone there? I’m still alone.

Finally, a door to break the monotonous walls and blank windows. I charge at the rectangular opening, bursting outwards into a sea of light, a screeching noise that I have never forgotten.

I think I’m going insane.

You’re not insane, she told me, her voice soft as always. This kinda stuff’s normal for us.

I personally have doubts on that. I hear plenty of things about what’s considered normal for those people that are not quite adults. Apparently we all whine about money, stay out too late, and have sex on our minds constantly. I don’t recall ever hearing a claim that normal teens have trouble distinguishing what’s real and what’s not. How do you explain something like that anyway? It just seems sometimes that what I think is real is too unbelievable to exist, that it has to be a dream, or maybe some kind of twisted nightmare. Yet the other place I know, that can’t be real either, the logical part of my mind knows that. This simply leaves me wondering just where the hell I am if both places I exist in seem as fictional as the other.

School is a distraction from these two conflicting realities. I know that it has to exist. It’s never as quiet as anywhere else I go, always a bustling hive of activity, people laughing, talking, being. It’s a place I can go to forget some of the problems in my life, to escape with my friends, with Mel. She’s always believed in me.

Decaying buildings, once full of life, now they teeter on the brink of destruction, old and lonely. That purple sky I know so well looms over them, suffocating their shapes with a dim veil. Above it all hovers a red moon, almost like a circle of dried blood. All is quiet here. No children laugh and play, no adults talking with their neighbours. The road outside is lifeless and the trees and flowers in nearby gardens hang there in shades of grey.

I can walk here, slowly exploring a landscape devoid of life. It feels natural though, almost welcoming. Yet I know that all the while I’m searching for something or someone, a seemingly impossible task in this world. A static seems to cloud the very air I breathe, choking me and cutting me off from everything. A shattering roar, familiar, and light engulfs me once more.

Is everything alright? Mel asks.

Yeah. It was a lie. Dad had been on the phone this morning with the hospital. I knew he’d been trying to keep the noise down, but I could hear his voice choking with barely suppressed emotion. I didn’t need to know what the exact words were, I could tell. My sister was going.

You sure? She tries again, this time touching my arm.

Positive. I sigh as I felt her hand begin to retract, and shook my head. Sorry Mel. Didn’t mean to sound so aggressive.

It’s okay. Her hand finds mine.

Just the simple act of another human holding another’s hand seems to cause so much comfort. I don’t know how that works, but it helps to ease the pain. The problem remains in my mind as our bus conveys a bunch of us students to an excursion. Sometimes I wonder if suicide is an answer. Would that help me to find out which world is real? Ultimately, I have no answer on that, and don’t think I could bring myself to go through with it either.

Sudden noises, breaking through the silence that usually surrounds me. The bus is turning, twisting as if under a mind of its own. The motion is sickeningly familiar and I can hear others screaming in fear. I know where this is going, already know the outcome before it has happened. A shriek, screeching, that shattering roar.

The feeling of wetness is familiar too, and I almost welcome it. It runs into my face and I feel around for Mel’s body, trying to find her. Things have become silent again. She’s still there, lying next to me, but I know already that she is gone. The thought should horrify me, bring me to tears, but I can only give a small smile as I feel fatigue setting in one last time.

I’ll see you there, Mel.

The world is still grey, the sky still blotted in purple hues. My eyes open, and I see things again for the first time since I lost my sight, my family, my life. The world around me, the place in my dreams…only this time it isn’t a dream. Yet for all my hopes, I am still alone.

Or am I? Laughter fills the air around me, the very sound of it colouring the monochrome tones of the world. From all around, people begin to crowd in, surrounding me. My mother and father are there, a smiling couple once again. Holly laughs, her long, curling hair beaming like gold, radiating the light like the sun. And Melissa too, the love of my life not dead but alive, with all of us, in this place where nobody has to be alone.