Death of the Vanguard

Chapter Three

I dream of a world where someone cares more. A world where I don't contemplate who survives the day. A world where I don't wonder who will be mourned tommorow, or who will be forgotten.

I bolt upright, shaken. It's been a while since I had a dream like that. It reflects my hidden view of the worlds beyond. Hands shaking, I push up from my chair, and head to the bathroom. Splashing water on my face, I rub at my eyes.

I gently chide myself again. I know how dangerous letting myself wander outside where my mind should is. Breaking out of the barriers leads to greater things. And greater risks.

I've learned to conceal it, hide the worlds, secure the barriers, as I got older. I've grown successful, and these things were abandoned. I frown. It appears they were only hidden in my mind, swept into the corners with the dust.

I sigh, and look at myself in the mirror. Water runs down my face, and I frown. Grabbing a towel, I dry my face and the hair that got wet.

I throw it back on the counter just as I hear a knock at the door.

Composing myself, I plaster on a smile, and walk towards the door. Answering it, my expression fell to the floor. "What do you want?" I almost growled at him.

He raised his hands in surrender. "What did I do?" The man from the parking lot asked. "The parking lot." I spat at him.

He looked angry. "Well excuse me!" He snapped back. "I just came to remind you for supper."

"Fine!" I screamed at him, slamming the door in his face.

I seethe for a moment, before trying to let go of my anger. It's not healthy, and it certainly isn't rational. A burning flame still stays within me though as I get ready for dinner.

I finally put in earrings, and smile at myself in the mirror. The green dress I wearing isn't overdone. Like me, it's very simple.

Happily, I hum a song while sweeping out the door to the dining hall. But when I get there, no one is dining.

Everyone is panicking at the dead body on the floor.