Neon Green

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"Oh. You're here early."

I snapped my head up at the echoing voice coming from every direction. Oh, I'm dreaming. I realized I was in the same woods I found myself in, in every single dream of mine. I couldn't help but roll my eyes at his teasing voice – since when does he tease?- and plopped myself on the ground Indian style, the awfully ridiculous dress on me whooshing and making an equally ridiculous sound at the movement. Why was I in this dress anyway? I thought dreams are supposed to be figments of my imagination, mine; but I don't recall I ever wanted or dreamt of this ugly dress.

"And you're being chatty. How nice," I spat with a scowl. I obviously wasn't in the mood to have any conversation with him. I remember going to sleep after some heavy yet quick training from Xiumin, and two seconds after I lost my consciousness, I was standing in front of a meadow surrounded by a ring of trees.

I heard a melodious laugh from every corner, a laugh I wasn't very familiar with at all. It spread shudders all over my body, a sudden thump of my heart echoing in my ears, and I knew it was a reaction to the beautiful laugh. I unconsciously turned my head to the side, the right side; where the laugh seemed the loudest, but I couldn't see anyone.

"Well, you caught me in my happy mood. You didn't tell me why you are early," I could hear the laugh lingering in his voice, and my lips quirked the slightest, masking it immediately with a scowl.

"By that you mean my sleeping? Well, I was just training and I felt tired. I almost immediately fell asleep when my head smacked the ground," I found myself answering. Why was I answering? Why was I sitting down and talking to this guy, whom I don't know anything about aside his existence in my head. I heard a noise of an apprehensive hum. There was a small brush of warm breathing on my ears, trailed by hums sounding from everywhere around me; but it seemed extremely close to my ear. Involuntarily, I scratched on my ears.

"Why are you always in my dreams? Your voice... it's not familiar; I have never encountered anyone with that tone of voice before," seeing how good of a mood he was in, I decided to ask him about the question I was thinking about since forever. There was a long, intense period of silence; in which I kept picking on the grass and staring around, as if in one second, the boy would emerge out from the trees and expose himself to me.

"I have the ability to dream walk," he answered suddenly in a curt voice, and I snapped my head up with wide eyes and accelerating heartbeats.

"So you're a Warrior then," I concluded, and I heard a mocking laugh that was mixed with a bitter sensation.

"I'm worse," he answered my thought, and my heart thumped louder and louder in my ears. I pursed my lips into a thin line, the fingers I kept twisting and plucking the grass with freezing momentarily.

"Is there anything worse than being a Warrior?" I asked with a frown, because genuinely; I didn't know of the existence of something—someone, worse than a Warrior. Not by term of manners, or principles; but are there people, real living matters; that suffer a worse case, worse present, and probably worse future; than a Warrior? I didn't know, I didn't know there were worse.

"There is," the boy answered, a sigh in his tone. I just noticed; his robotic tone from the first nights were gone, and he expressed more emotions through his words. "I'm worse, trust me."

"Why would you say that?" I whispered gently, my voice carried by the slow rush of wind and taking it everywhere. I heard another hum, this hum more bitter than the first, content one.

"I was created this way. I'm better this way."

"I don't know, nor do I understand what you mean, or what way you were created in. But we all have the ability to choose what we want to be.. you just have to believe," I raised my voice confidently, louder than the whisper of before. The wind picked up its speed; the trees swung around gently, and colorful leaves, varieties from brown, green and muddy red escaped their homes, floating around and falling down the ground in a helpless grace.

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