For somebody with such a vigorous fixation on my every movement, the angel wasn't exactly one for small talk.

  I sat atop one of many lifeless, crumbling fountains. Each of them had been depleted of their lifeforce, as arid as the grains of sand that floated in the wind. Occasionally, said sand granules decided to make themselves at home in my eye sockets, forcing me to change my position relative to the wind’s direction rather frequently.

  Any trace of the house of glass was long departed and swiftly forgotten. Sometimes, I missed the protection that its walls provided. But then I would remember the surges of pain that had flowed through my body, and I quickly quashed any semblance of positive thought about it.

  Nothing felt like anything. I was tired. Bored. Nervous. But most of all… I just wanted to go home.

The angel finally made a sound.

  …What type of sound, you ask? I don’t know. The sound was… silent. I don’t want to think about how I heard it in the first place. All I knew is that it was deafeningly silent. This pathetic excuse for a nursery was a vacuum - Completely devoid of any sensation.

  That was, except for sight.

  I stepped closer to the angel, my footsteps completely empty and lacking any weight or impact on the world around me. When I was only a mere three inches in front of the angel, I dropped to one knee. The stone-carved lily in his hand started to wither before my very eyes. I picked up one of the petals - It was dense, like a block of iridium. Had the angel been forced to carry such a heavy burden all this time?

  As delicately as it drifted to the ground, I returned the petal to its rightful place on the lily. I cracked a faint smile and then I got up.

  …and then, I got up.

My knee was still planted firmly on the ground at the angel’s feet.

  Why aren’t I moving? I could’ve sworn that I-

  Gravity started to weigh down on my paralyzed body with indescribable magnitude.

  I forcibly lifted my head up, listening to what must’ve been the muffled sounds of the bones in my neck fracturing as I fought against the force of gravity. I looked deep into the angel’s eyes - A grim, enticing, light blue glow emanated from its pupils. Through my catatonic state, I finally heard the angel’s true voice - My own voice. It repeated back to me a wish I had made long ago that had been lost to the sands of time…

“I just wanted to go home.”

  When I snapped out of my trance, I found myself in the corner of my childhood bedroom.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Everything felt so close to being exactly as I had left it, but at the same time, this place couldn’t have felt more wrong. The walls were all painted dark, midnight blue. The air fluctuated between states of frigid cold and blistering heat. My bed was flipped over on its side, the sheets torn and tattered. This wasn’t home at all - Or was it? Is this truly meant to be my fate? Exiled and sentenced to spend the rest of my days in what can only be described as a mockery of the only thing I had ever wished for? That angel… I don't believe he had any intention of ever granting my wish.

  A knocking sound echoed from beneath the floorboards. Out of fear, I shot up and sprinted down the stairs. With every step I took down the staircase, the knocking grew louder. When my foot landed on the third step from the bottom, the knocking started to physically rattle through my head. I clutched my head to contain the pure agony from spreading, sending me tumbling down the remainder of the stairs.

  I clenched my fists and repeatedly beat myself over the head, hoping that would drive the intruding noise out of my skull. With each blow, the sound got quieter, rewarding my relentless assault. Eventually, my head was decorated with marks in red, but at least the parasite attempting to root itself into my mind had finally retreated.

  Now, the knocking came quietly from behind the door to the backyard. I stood up, slowly tiptoeing as I approached the back door. The urge to check the door wasn’t my own choice, but nobody else seemed to be home to do it for me. In that very instant, it started to dawn on me that nobody ever would be.

  My hand gently grabbed the door handle, trying to avoid making a sound. As I pulled on the sliding door, I took a deep breath to steel myself for anything that might-

The door violently swung open as a harsh, white light radiating from the backyard swallowed the room whole.

  I quickly shut the door to fend off the light and ripped my shirt off, tying it around the door handles to keep it closed. The light retaliated and started prying its way into the house one by one from any doors and windows it could reach. I frantically ran throughout the entire house, locking the doors, shutting the curtains, and shoving furniture up to barricade the entrances as the intruding light started to pound away at the walls.

  As it became harder and harder to fight it, I sprinted up the stairs and locked myself inside my room. The bedroom door began to shake fiercely as some unknown force battered against it. Cracks rapidly started to form, letting the light creep in from the outside. After a while, rays of light leaked into the room from every single corner of the room - Floorboards. Windows. Fissures in the ceiling. Soon, it became everything.

  I closed my eyes, clutching my arms around my body in hopes that it would keep me from harm. The sound of the door getting blown off its hinges reverberated through my ears.

  …but nothing happened.

  I opened my eyes, only to find that the room was just as dark as it had always been. With utmost caution, I examined each corner of my room, anticipating the possibility that the intruder could return at any time. Around the other side of my bed, I discovered a shadowy figure curled up in a fetal position with their back pressed against the bed. I sat down in front of the figure and tapped them on the shoulder. In response, the figure lifted their head, revealing their face.

Their face was blank.

  …until they opened their eyes. They were blue - A grotesquely familiar blue.

  The figure’s hand lunged straight for my right eye, holding it tightly in their fist like a grudge. As their grasp grew progressively tighter, I watched their irises flash a series of colors.

Purple.

Green.

Orange.

Pain flooded the rest of my body as the figure tore my right eyeball out of my skull, leaving what remained of my physical shell comatose on the floor.