Dream ♠ oo3

[defector]

Lying before him is a cemetery, row after row of graves on green grass and surrounded by a fence. The wind blows gently, ruffling the leaves in the trees, adding to the serene atmosphere. There's no one else here, so everything else is silent. It's comforting, knowing no one else will see him. Dominic's never been the most social of people, and right now, he's feeling particularly withdrawn.

Lightly, he steps off the paved path leading from the church and into the cemetery, a bouquet of flowers in one hand. He's only been here once before, when he was young and trying to cope. It was fine back then, because he'd been a child. After that, he never returned. While he remembered each time the anniversary comes along, he hadn't bothered to come back. People already didn't take him seriously because of his age--he refused to give them another a reason to make fun of him. His duties came before his heart, or so how it was when he was growing up.

Things are different now, though. He no longer has any duties, which means he's free. It's an odd feeling. He is neither unhappy nor unhappy, but at peace.

Walking past the graves, his body remembers where his destination is, despite all the years that have gone by. It's not too far away, and soon he's arrived at where he wants to be. In front of him stands a grave, numerous words engraved into it. He's not concerned with most of them though, only the names.

Sorel.

Gently, he places the flowers over the soil, the white contrasting against the brown, before standing up again. He looks around the still-quiet area, not sure what he's supposed to do now. Praying would be inappropriate--he's never been religious--and he's not the kind of person who would speak to people that are no longer there. Besides, judging from what he could recall about his parents, being sentimental with them wouldn't feel right either.

He glances at his surroundings once more. For a few seconds, grass and soil become paved roads, the fence and trees become collapsed houses, and the graves become corpses buried under the wreckage. For a moment, he's seven years old again, lost and stripped of everything that mattered to him.

As he blinks, everything returns to normal, but there's an emptiness left inside of him. Slowly, an emotion he can't quite identify rises, threatening to burst. It's a mixture of grief, anger, determination, and the simple desire to do something.

Do what? he wonders, but doesn't know. There is nothing left for him to do.

He's about to turn around and leave, when pain races up through the left of his chest, forcing his knees to buckle and hit the ground. Placing his one hand on the ground and the other over where it hurts most, he takes in deep breaths. He then removes his hand from his side, revealing blood on his palm. With his hazy vision, he stares, first at his hand and then up at the grave.

He's barely able to make out the word etching itself into the stone, his head pounding hard.

D-o-m-

Before the word finishes, he falls, his arm unable to support him any longer, and blacks out.

------

[Dominic wakes up, frowns, and then buries his face into the pillow.]

....