The Dream.
There was a swirling cacophony of sounds and images. Doves flying across a warm sky. Sharp pain amidst blinding white light. The gentle friendship of that young girl. He furrowed his brows as he tried to get a look at her, but the closer he looked, the farther away it seemed to be. Who is she again…? The scene changed yet again. Some men that seemed to know him. A large robot. A flash of orange. A man with a visor smiling at him. Another sharp pain.
He wasn’t able to make sense of his surroundings, still looking around in confusion. As soon as he ran close enough to recognize something, it would disappear as elusively as it came. The only constant was the two doves fluttering in the sky above him and the city sidewalk on which he stood.
The young girl ran up again, though he didn’t recognize her. Instead he was focusing on the two birds as they landed gently on the ground before them. The girl wore a simple white smock, her light hair shining in the sun, though he didn’t look up. She stood beside him and playfully locked hands with him, watching the birds as well.
One of the birds started twitching. It contorted in pain and agony, a sharp cry garbling from it’s beak as the creature’s mouth stretched wider and wider. Blood dripped from its eyes as its feathers fell out and its skin ripped, another bird ripping its way free from the dove’s innards. Talons and a crueler, hooked beak became visible as it devoured the peaceful dove. A blood-covered hawk had forced its way out, leaving the young man very confused.
“Stop.” The girl spoke simply, her large golden eyes looked up at him pleadingly as she grasped his hand tighter. She looked to be around five or six, tugging on his sleeve. Her bottom lip quivered, tears coming up to her eyes. “Please stop. I don’t want to die!” her voice was raised in hysterics. She suddenly grabbed her head, a blinding pain shooting through it. “Stop! Stop!” She repeated frantically. “Please! I don’t want to die!”
The man raised an eyebrow in confusion, but went back to watching the birds. The hawk and the second dove had begun fighting, ripping and tearing at one another. Despite the dove’s peaceful nature, the two were evenly matched as the hawk was blind. The bird of prey screeched and lunged blindly, occasionally getting a nip in while the dove dodged and attacked.
“Please stop.” She stated again, though this time coldly. Who was this girl again? Why did she keep speaking to him? He looked at her again, the girl now looking to be closer to his own age. Her face was emotionless as she glared sharply, her light hair parted away from her face. She was wearing a olive green uniform, standing straight up and glaring at him. “I’ve asked you six times now.”
He opened his mouth to apologize, though different words than he intended came through.
“Fuck you.” His lips broke apart into a mad grin. A flash of gold and his posture was broken, taking a stance similar to the hawk’s on the ground. “Little girlie... Best run.” He suggested. He had wanted to apologize for the hawk on the group ripping the dove apart, but instead he found himself challenging the girl. He had wanted to apologize for not stopping beforehand, ask her how to end their conflict. But instead he felt himself incapable of moving, a slave to is own hidden desires. “Best run before you meet the same fate,” he hissed.
She lifted her eyes to the sky. Instead of the blue sky and clouds, it now resembled the bleakness of outer space, the ground rotating to simulate gravity. “Hallelujah.” She spoke simply, as though praising a higher power.
The girl simply turned and walked off, slowly fading into the distance. Another flash of orange, some cruel, unbidden laughter, and an explosion. The building before him was destroyed, and the young girl whose friendship he had loved along with it.
Who was the girl? Why did she care so much? The blood covered hawk screeched as the injured dove ran away. The bird of prey lifted its wings to flutter onto the young man’s shoulder. It held a wing before himself to preen one of its feathers, turning a cold, sightless golden eye onto the young man.
“Lift yourself up and go.” The hawk spoke coldly, tilting its head. “If you stay here, we will die.”
Another explosion. Hundreds dead. People were screaming, crying. Men in white coats ran before the orange flash would destroy something else.
Both the cruel, hooked beak of the hawk and the man’s thin, bitter lips lifted at the corners. “Bless this destruction.”
Was he speaking? Or the cruel bird? The words emerged nonetheless as the scene faded into an uncaring white void.