A wasteland, a place of war, one that should be yet is not as it is filled with swords. Thousands upon thousands of swords, each having some sort of story behind it but yet all look as if they were gravestones to show that the story has ended.

In the middle of this land there stood a hill that could be seen even when this place was covered in dust and smog. There stood a man I couldn’t fully see but could notice the color of red being prominent and the chance of the hair being white, but before I could anything it disappeared.

--

‘RIIIIiinngg..”

The sound of the school bell that has woken me up ends before the sound of the student’s covers it up. The shuffling of objects was prominent in my surroundings before I left this place.

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Walking out of school the sound of students talking is quickly erased as I go into my thoughts, the thought of my dreams covering them instead. The star, alive while the others died, I first saw still glowing and the white-haired man, alone in a land filled with swords, they stayed with a vividness one wouldn’t expect from a dream.

What was the purpose of them and why did my mind show them as being important.

--

Home, a place that felt empty yet was not.

“I’m home!” I yelled to my parents.

“It’s good to see you.” my mother appeared from the kitchen. “Food will be ready in a moment.” she said with a smile.

A smile that was filled with love but yet for me it didn’t give me a sense of joy. An empty feeling in but I still smiled back.

“That would be great.” in which she returned with a nod before going back to cooking. I walked to my room while putting things away to be ready to use again.

Reaching my room, I lay on my bed doing nothing but felt like doing something yet I couldn’t. The joy of things eventually left, games or books don’t amuse me as much anymore.

I felt empty, lost being the better choice of words. The dream is still present in my mind, something that hadn’t been there before entered me, curiosity.

‘What was that dream?’