It was his crystal blue eyes buried amongst the dark flames in my dreams tonight. Frightening and blinding, a piercing stare amongst the dark. I was in my white dress, my hair long, like in the picture he had drawn. As I stood in the burning surrounds, the ash and fire growing closer by the second, it was the blue beacon, his eyes, that called to me.
“Follow him,” Mor's voice floated over the burning trees, landing softly on my ears in the strange silence. I did as I was told, creeping over the ash and rubble towards his eyes, glowing in the distance.
The closer I got to him, the farther away he seemed. It felt as though I would never reach him.
“Follow him,” Mor whispered again, though I couldn't see him anywhere. Only the black flames and those eyes. His eyes. Blue and cold and bright in the distance. Always there but never attainable. I kept going, kept trying to find him, to reach him.
Finally, there in front of me, he stood, Ash, pale and cold, his eyes focused on me but his face stone, like death. I let out a shriek, frightened when Mor's voice came again.
“I've come back for you,” Mor's voice echoed through Ash's lips, moving in rhythm to the words. It was Ash's body, stone cold and ghastly, but it was Mor's voice, Mor's soul that inhabited. My Mor.
“Follow him,” Mor's voice floated over the burning trees, landing softly on my ears in the strange silence. I did as I was told, creeping over the ash and rubble towards his eyes, glowing in the distance.
The closer I got to him, the farther away he seemed. It felt as though I would never reach him.
“Follow him,” Mor whispered again, though I couldn't see him anywhere. Only the black flames and those eyes. His eyes. Blue and cold and bright in the distance. Always there but never attainable. I kept going, kept trying to find him, to reach him.
Finally, there in front of me, he stood, Ash, pale and cold, his eyes focused on me but his face stone, like death. I let out a shriek, frightened when Mor's voice came again.
“I've come back for you,” Mor's voice echoed through Ash's lips, moving in rhythm to the words. It was Ash's body, stone cold and ghastly, but it was Mor's voice, Mor's soul that inhabited. My Mor.