Cold hearted dreamer(Short Stories)

1.Was it all a dream?

Roy broke the window with his fist, glancing at the blood on his hand and jumped right through the hole. After all he was there on a mission and nothing could keep him from following it through. The feeling of guilt and aimless sorrow washed all over him, but he kept his mask on even making sure it never falls down. It felt like a thousand moments went in front of his eyes, before he managed to get into the room. Inside it was so light, such a preternatural and hardly visible for his eyes light. In the center he saw a little girl looking at him with a reticent interest and curiosity. It was as if she was saying "this is not your place, yet you are welcome". He asked the question he has asked a thousand times already "Is this where I belong?". She looked at him a bit longer and came closer, extending her hand saying "Not like this." He took her hand in his and he led her lead him to the open door, which as he knew from his previous comings led to a different place every time. This time it was a lake with a crystal blue water and green sand and threes of such artistic colors, the type that he knew his unimaginative mind could never picture on its own. Yet, is it a dream even when you can confidently say it is not? Looking up he noticed the girl running up and down the sand and taking it in her hands, calling him to come see what she has found. He came to her and took one crimson stone and threw it in the lake saying "Rock skipping, I used to do this all the time when I was your age." Roy followed the path of the rock and whispered "It is so beautiful, isn't it?". He gave her a little rock which she threw with such enthusiasm, reminding him of himself once upon a time.

"Look, it fell on the other side. – she exclaimed.

"Wow, you are such a natural. Come here." The girl jumped in his arms and he swung her around knowing how much she loved that. They played more, throwing more rocks and laughing when the rocks splashed so much water that it reached them. Later he took her in his arms and told her stories. The ones she had heard a myriad times, but the only ones he had to offer. Yet, being there always turned him into the hopeful and cheerful person, who he used to be with no such deep emptiness filling his chest with its light heaviness.

"It is time to leave." – the girl said. Roy inhaled sharply, a piece of the emptiness retuning swiftly. "I love you, Araya"- was the only thing he was able to utter before he was once again travelling through the myriad moments, not having enough time to promise her that he is going to come back. He opened his eyes and the mask of emotionless was right there waiting for him to take it. He put it on feeling a little piece of relief and faced the world, burying his pain as deep as the hole in which was buried the body of his dead daughter.