How could I have ever reached this part, this impossible part? I could see myself going down a path, coming closer and closer to this. But I’m not prepared. In my mind I had never exited the real concrete world. At least not until I look at this man, who stands in my door way, a shadow screaming, and then lights his own hands on fire. It rages so powerful that I want to stand there forever, because maybe if you study the powerful things, you can help yourself solve the unending mystery. If you study all that is powerful and beautiful and strong- then maybe you can master the words. Master your life, your understanding. If you can see word written, that you know are your thoughts and your soul, the understanding of power will not stretch so far out of your reach.It will be the part of you that has been missing for so long. The friend who is always there, and tells you what is true.
What is simple and yet so complicated at the same time. Oh, it is the goal of my life, to know.
Then the sounds stops and the power stops. The cold hard eyes stare silent, blue, like ice. Frozen, for just a moment, before the flames, which contrast so much with the silence, are coming toward me.
Then the silence is endless, ever stretching. I want to give in to the silence, to sleep, because it is pushing so hard.
You don't ever have to worry anymore. You can live in endless peace, as endless as the silence that is now so silent it is power. Power again.
Didn't you love the nonexistent time, because it was the only time you had?
I can give you all the time you ever wanted. You don't have to think anymore.
Where do these voices come from? I am not Erin, fearless. I do not charge through life with a smile on my face. But I have a quiet power.
I look at life the way it is, with all of it’s faults.
I like to watch, instead of paying to my strengths.
My strength is not imitation. My strength is observation.
I know things most don't. Just little things that people think they have secure. These voices haunt me, but they also intrigue me.
Welcome to the dream my friend.
Welcome to the dream.
I open my heavy eyes with great difficulty.
Light floods into them, and I feel disoriented, my least favorite feeling in the world.
I do not know where I am, what I am wearing.
I barely know who I am anymore. I am awake. That is all.
The voice scares the s*** out of me. But all of this does. The light. where is the light coming from? Where is the voice coming from?
I can’t tell what gender it is, I am too tired. Everything is blurry, plastered across my vision in an unreal way.
“Who are you?” I manage to say. I must force myself to concentrate, to think straight. You must gain ground before they gain ground on you, in all situations.
Yes, I am afraid. But I must gain ground. It is the way the game is played.No answer.
“Where am I?” I try one more time.
“ That is none of your concern,”
“LOOK. You don’t get it do you?” I smile in what I hope is a convincing manner. “Whatever you want, Whoever you want, I am not it. I’m a sixteen year old boy who has done nothing wrong. Ever!”
“Oh, you lived in San Diego, didn’t you. You’ll catch up eventually, Max Vierra,”
“Who are you?”
“Who are you?”
“Where am I?”
“Why am I here?”
“You are entering another world Maxwell. Sweet dreams.”