I dream of a purple-green blanket of clouds, rumbling, while the ocean dances wildly to its tunes. It sounds ethereal, but it looks a lot like death.
I cry for loved ones to take cover and not scurry around under the treacherous sky, but no matter how hard I scream, no one seems to hear me. I hear them warn me instead, to stay safe, hidden. And like the real life heroes that they are, they run out to help more people be safe.
I'm a coward in my nightmare. It feels a lot like myself. I'm not screaming loud enough, not insisting hard enough, not trying much at all. But I pacify myself thinking they'll all walk back to safety once they're done playing the hero.
Pathetic.
My heartbeat rings like a bad omen in my ears, blaming me for not saving them, begging me to walk out of the hideout, urging me to take action.
But I am paralysed-- physically and mentally. As my heart is running out to save the ones I love, my heels are digging harder into the ground, resisting all my attempts at being selfless.
"Let me go!", I screech, at no one in particular, or maybe, at myself.
Gasp!
I wake up, sweating hard. My palms are damp and dry at the same time. My heart is practically thumping out of my chest. It was just a bad dream. Wasn't it? I look down at my hands.
Blood.
There's blood on them.
It's sticky and a bit caked up in places. I look to my side and a gasp of dread escapes my parched throat.
Amara.
Amara's dead. My sister's dead.
And her blood is on my hands.
YOU ARE READING
The Gatekeeper: Realms Of Afterworld
FantasyOrphaned at a young age, all Mirae ever wanted was for her and her adopted sister Amara, to live an untroubled life. And she'd hoped to be able to do so soon as she'd pay up her dues to Karl, the village's diabolical money lender. But as fate would...
