Shards of Blue Glass

Silver Ring

Trees surround me. They suffocate me. They give me life. They laugh. They cry.

    I run through the trees, a sense of urgency running through my blood. My heart beats fast in my ears, and I don't pay attention to the camera on my hand, which can help me see in this never-ending blackness of night.

    I reach a clearing, and I look around with my camera. What I see makes me cry out. Zak Prongs lays in the middle of the clearing, liquid pouring out of a hole in his chest. I rush over, and try to staunch the flow of blood immediately. Though I know it's no use; the light is already leaving Zak's dark hazel eyes, just like the twenty-seven other times I've watched people die.

    Suddenly, Zak grasps my wrist with his bloody hand. Though I'm no stranger to the red life-liquid, the sight of it pouring out of my truest friend has me in near hysterics. I lean closer to Zak when I see his lips move. "Saira. Fulfilled. Fate." The words send chills down my spine, and I look down at my other hand. It used to hold my camera, but now I see the all-too-familiar silver barrel of a gun I've used to kill two people.

    The silver ring I got from Zak a few days ago glows on my marriage finger, which wraps around the handle of the gun on instinct. The cool leather and metal sings to me, and a voice in my head says to finish the job. Kill Zak, and fulfill your duty to the Dark Prince, it whispers. With tears in my eyes, I stand, and point the barrel of the pistol at Zak's head.

His dark hazel eyes regard me with loathing and pain, and I look away as I fire the bullet, the first time I've ever done so when firing a weapon. I turn back, though, as if someone is turning my head for me. In Zak's place, though, I see four other peoples' bodies. My family.

    I scream with rage and pain, and the dream splinters into fragments of glass.

   

I shoot upright, my heart racing and tears in my eyes. It takes me a moment to remember where I am. The hotel room. On the way back to Vegas. Home. Three days after Zak proposed to me, and I said yes.

    Just as I think this, Zak rounds the corner from where the bathroom is, looking worried. He has a towel wrapped around his torso, and his usually perfect black hair is messy and wet. "What's wrong, Saira? You were screaming and thrashing in your sleep," he asks as he sits on the edge of the bed, looking at me with his beautiful dark hazel eyes.

    I run my hands through my tangled black-brown hair, avoiding Zak's eyes. The morning sunlight glints off the silver ring on my left hand-which I thank God is my dominant, because otherwise it would've felt weird-and attracts my attention.

    I fold my legs under me as I sit up, twisting the ring around my finger, still trying to avoid looking at Zak. The image of him, bleeding on the ground thanks to a gunshot I gave him, is still too fresh in my mind.

    Zak stills watches me, and I finally look up to meet his eyes. "I had a dream that I killed you. Then you changed into my family," I say, and Zak nods. "I get those dreams, too. It's alright, Saira. It's just a dream," Zak says, gazing into my very soul with those dark eyes. I know that he's practically reading my thoughts, knowing what I'm not saying. Ever since I had that dream of God and Purgatory over seven months ago, we've been able to read each other all too well.

    Zak stands, and runs his own hands through his hair, making it stand up. I giggle as he reaches for me, and pulls me off the bed. "Come on, then. Time to get ready. You know the others will eat everything downstairs if we don't get down there quickly," he says, and I laugh. I turn to move to my suitcase, and I feel Zak hit my butt. I whip around and smack his arm, but a smile dances on my lips; already, the dream is fading from my mind.

    I feel bad taking off my silver ring to take my shower. I stand there and turn it in my hands, studying the design. A silver dragon, curled around a small blue stone. Which is kinda funny, considering the Devil's symbol is a dragon, but Zak loves weird things, like cinnamon on popcorn and werewolves, so I can't say anything for his taste. And besides, my friend, Alex Diron, had designed the ring, based off of a picture I drew months ago.

    I smile as I place the ring on the counter, and step under the warm water of the shower. I let the dark night slip out of my mind like the water dripping from my body. I feel at peace, and even though I know it won't last for long, I take it for granted.

    For more spirits from my past decide to say hello.