There is an unseen bridge that connects us from reality to dream.
There is a way to find who is dead, to search for who is alive.
There is a rope wrapping a soul to a body tight until grim reaper decides to break it.
This string, is a thread among y...
"Real world steals the colour of the other universe, that is why everything seems plain."
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Charlie Johnson was distracted again by the gravestones lined the eerie graveyard, Some recently placed, whereas others, cracked and crumbling. Mold covered the engravings dedicated to the dead, trees leaning towards the stones, branches reaching out to each other. Spiked, black fences surrounded the graveyard almost like it was a prison. The smell of old stone filled the dry air, weeds covering the graves of the dead, loved ones long since stopped visiting. Gravel paths weaved through the maze of graves, allowing passers by to pay their respects to the people lined up in the earth's embrace.
Fortunately, the sun shone brilliantly and the virescent color of the winter day under its glare was offensively bright and cheerful. However it was against the funeral held there, in all black clothes and white waxy faces, every one of them with puffed red eyes. They struggled to hold back the grief, tears flew steadily, silently down immobile faces, felt bruised inside, numbness, emptiness, walking behind a mahogany coffin. Words from the minister, speeches at the service bring a fresh onslaught of tears, well spoken words, a tribute to their life and loves, everyone in black, dusky pink roses on the casket, watching casket lowered into the grave through tear-stained eyes.
It affixed anxiety inside him. He was afraid to lose his little brother which could happen anytime since then. The feeling was soon washed away as Isadora Monet was seen around the funeral, her black dress seemed just as her casual outfit as the event dress code.
"Isadora!" Charlie shouted, approaching her.
She noticed him coming closer, but her face was so emotionless.
"I need to talk to you," said Charlie.
"About your brother?" she spoke up, but her eyes were away, watching the funeral from the front gate.
"Yeah, who's passed away?"
"I don't know. I'm just hanging around."
It stunned him. Why is this girl so creepy? "But you're wearing black,"
"So are you," Isa added.
Charlie gulped, he did not know why he even listened to Camilo's advice. "Let's go to another place."
"Lindsey Gardens Park? They have chocolate ice cream," Isadora smiled, the first good thing on her that Charlie saw.
"Sure, I'll treat you," Charlie replied. They started to walk, steady but quick because both of them could not wait any longer to have what they wanted.
The park covered a wide area that could fit about three small houses. It was hilly with a tall tree or two near one hill. There were benches for people to sit in every corner and jogging tracks were all around the edges of the park. The west corner had some swings too on which many children used to come and play. Flower hedges and bushes grew all around; this made the park look more pleasant and attractive. The ice cream van was seen in the children's center. The window was flung open and played a merry tune. Swarms of children surrounded the van, waving their money in the air. Smaller kids squeezed through to the front of the queue, whilst the bigger kids frantically shoved their way in.
"Too crowded," Isa stated what Charlie could tell himself.
"So... No ice cream?"
Ten minutes later they were already sitting on the wooden bench, starting to eat their ice cream.
"Isa," Charlie spoke up. "I think I had a stranger dream than the dark space you saw that day."
"Hm," she mumbled as a request for more explanation.
"So last night, I made it to get close enough to Jimmy, but we couldn't hear each other still. I just kept staring at his weak figure to strengthen him, but it just made me sadder... I slept twelve hours to keep watching him. Then I woke up."
"You should have not stayed too long, you know," Isadora interrupted.
"Look, it doesn't matter. After that, I took some sleeping pills to continue, but I ended up awake in my bed. And it's getting stranger."
Isa raised her eyebrows, continued enjoying her ice cream with no startle shown.
"Are you even listening?"
"Yeah, and you woke up in your bed, and when you got up, your body was still there, sleeping."
"Wait, how do you know?"
"It's an astral projection. You just reached a whole new level. Congratulations."
"That was creepy!"
Isa paused, she looked at Charlie. "Well, it is. And so much more dangerous."
"Obviously. I wasn't in the dark place anymore and there's no Jimmy but the demon boy."
"And you followed him?"
"He attacked me! Why would I do that, anyway?!" Charlie scolded.
"You said you saw him with Jimmy. He is the only one who can lead you to where exactly your brother is."
"I was so close to Jimmy without his lead."
"It was just a vision, Charles," Isa replied, there was an indefinite anger inside her flat response. "Your brother tried to tell you where he is, that is why you're the only one who could see him. The fact is Jimmy himself doesn't know where he is lost right now, the dark scene is our only clue."
"Does it mean he is in a dark place?"
"Yes. But it could be anywhere."
Charlie was surprised, he had no knowledge about these creepy projections. However this was just known as falsehood, but it did exist. "How about the boy?"
"The boy," she paused, dismay painted on her expression. "–could be the main problem."
"How?"
"He could be the reason for Jimmy's repose."
"What?!" Charlie was startled, he never thought about it even though it was obvious this demon started this row of nightmares.
"We have to find who this boy is," Isa suggested.
"Wait, I've seen him in the cemetery. He sat on a tombstone, could it be his?" Charlie recognized one of his gloomy memories.
"Let's check it out," Isa stood up, then they rushed back to the graveyard.
There, she followed Charlie's steps on the path to reach the tomb he was certain of. No need for a long time to find it, a small grave, looked old and but groomed. The name and long-live year were engraved on its stone.
R.I.P.
DRACO DALE
OCTOBER 2ND, 1961 - JANUARY 13TH, 1971
"He was only ten," said Isa. Charlie didn't respond. She turned her sight to him, he looked pale and frightened. "And he died thirty years ago right on the day Jimmy fell into a coma..."
