It is happiness which does.

You understand, don’t you? One cannot know depression without having experienced joy. Every negative needs a positive or it cannot exist. Every end has its beginning, every death has its life. Only through experiencing the light can you know the dark.

When one lives their life alone, they do not know loneliness. They know only life. They do not wish for another, they do not wish to have someone to hold them, to care for them, to love them. But as soon as they meet that other, their life as it has been is over. They can never again know purity. They can never again know contentment. When they are inevitably left alone again they will crave for another, crave for someone, anyone who cares. They will cling to friends, latch onto romances and rot in their own disgusting fears of isolation.

Can you not see? Can you not understand? Without the positive there is no negative. Had you lived as I told you to you would be free. You would be pure. But now you wallow in your own pathetic misery. I cannot help you now. We are done. Until you come to me and accept me, do not bother begging for my help. You are wasted. You are pathetic. You are everything you once swore as vile. You are broken.

You have allowed yourself to die.

Leave me.

You run past a chapel, but you know that they offer no sanctuary in this place.

Ahead of you, the wide doors to your school are chained shut, but this does not stop you and you throw yourself through the glass. Picking yourself up you wince as you feel the glass cut into your flesh, but stopping means worse. And so you run. You run down the hall, heading for the rear exit. But it seems so far away…

Behind you the sounds of feet on the broken glass spur you on. You dare not look back. They call to you, in voices you recognise. But they are different now. You keep running. Ahead of you a dark shadow is cast on the glass of the door. There is no way out.

You turn into a classroom and lock the door. You are trapped.

Once again you ask yourself…What have I done to deserve this?

You can hear them now, coming closer. They chant, they pray. And under the chanting you hear the maniacal screams, screeches and dragging chains of the lesser ones. The ones who hunt you. The ones who chase. They are the servants, the soldiers, the lost. No more human than a dog.

The chanting grows louder. Prayers. These are the followers. These are the flock. They, at least, are still in control.

You will not allow yourself to lose. On the horizon, the sun rises and you feel the dream slipping away.

You throw yourself through a window and land…somwhere else. Not the school. No, you land outside a house. The flock are gone. The slaves are gone. The air is silent.

You know this house…

“As well you should.”

You turn. It is Her.

“It would be so much easier to join us.”

She is no friend of yours. Not anymore. She is clad in robes, she floats, her eyes are cold, blank, white. She is one of the preachers. The Disciples. The voices of their god.

Your strength leaves you and you collapse. They have won. Friends surround you now, but they are not themselves. They are mutilated, they are monsters. They are Enslaved. Behind them stand others, in robes and hoods. They are the flock. They are the Followers.

Morning is so close…

The monsters draw close, the flock prays. The voice laughs.

A familiar voice echoes through the air.

“What is it like to die, boy?”

You wake as they kill.

You rise slowly from your sitting position, careful to avoid falling from the cliff edge to the rotting garden below. The Grinning Man clarifies himself.

“She moved on so quickly, and you are still stuck in denial. Hope is paralysing my friend.”

You finally find your tongue and snap back, “We are not friends.”

The Grinning Man simply laughs, his smile ever-present against his silhouette. There is no outline, no defined features. Just a black figure and a cracked, white smile.

“We will be. The sooner, the better.”

You walk past him, moving down the road to the wasteland below you. You don’t know where you are, but the place seems familiar.

“What makes you think you ever mattered to Her? Honestly, She has done nothing but lie to you since you met Her. I have only ever tried to save you from the pain we both knew was coming.”

“How could you possible know how she felt?”

“How could you?”

You clench your jaw, wanting to argue, but the Grinning Mans logic is flawless. You know he is wrong, misguiding…But you cannot muster the will to argue with him anymore.

“How many of my predictions have come true? The deaths of your second “family”, Her betrayal, the suicide. How many more will have to before you listen to me?”

“She didn’t betray me. It was an understandable choice. I don’t like her decision, but I have no choice but to accept it.”

“In three months, less than, she has grown close to the new boy than She ever was to you. Even with the distance between them, She at least tries to maintain a relationship. After three months! She was with you for eight! And abandoned you after two weeks. How can it be any more obvious?”

He laughs. Cold and mocking, and you find your strength leaves you. He says the same things everytime, but you never know how to fight back.

“You do not have an existence in this life. It is not where you belong. The sooner you accept who you are, who you can be, the sooner you can realise just how stupid you have been. You know as well as I do that they all think you are useless. Fractured. Unacceptable.”

“I don’t know that. I don’t even think that.”

“Of course you do. The truth is, all of your pain is feeding them. The difference is you just don’t know it yet.”

You start to turn but a cold – oh so cold! – hand grabs your throat, lifting you off the ground. The Grinning Man walks with you back to the cliff edge, holding you high above the ground.

“Mark my words, boy. Before this month is up, someone will have used those exact words to describe you. Useless. Fractured. Unacceptable. Or at least some similar meanning words. That is a fairly exact prediction do you not think?”

You are dangling now over the edge, but the ground below is no longer a grey, ashen and rotting garden. Instead the ground is red, burnt. The trees are burning and smoke clouds the air. You know now where that place is. You know where you are going.

“When it comes true – and it will come true – then maybe you will see the truth. Until such a time our conversations will have to be put on hold.”

Underneath you can hear the familiar chanting, the screams. You cannot speak, but your eyes beg him not to send you back.

“You will not be waking yet. But I have no further use for you and your company has, once again, grown irritating. So until it is time to return to the land of morning and continue your pathetic existence as it is…I think you should…get some exercise. They have been waiting so long.”

And he drops you..

Part 2 is here.

You take in your surroundings. You are standing in the car park of your old school, but there are no cars. You call out for anybody who could be there. There is no one. You search your pockets. There is only a blank white piece of paper. You think it is photograph paper, but you’re not sure. Your hand feels slightly numb.

Why don’t you have your phone? You always have your phone. Why don’t you have your phone?

With a sudden sense of loathing, you start up the hill, walking up the road to your school’s main building.

You reach the upper car park. This one for the teachers and various staff. Again, there are no cars. To your right is the gate. But you hear no cars, and you know better than to walk to the nearby town at this time of night. You walk left, towards the front doors of the school. You know they will be locked, they are always locked. But maybe you can get one of the security guards’ attention. You move to the door and peer into the darkness. Someone moves inside. You knock on the glass door, but they do not hear you. You lean in closer and the door slides open.

Why wasn’t it locked? It’s always locked. Why wasn’t it locked?

You continue in, walking up the stairs. You know that the guards will be in the teachers’ lounge. It is warm in there. You reach the top floor. Someone moves to your left, from the Study Hall. It is too dark to see clearly. But you know there is someone watching you. You call out. No one answers you.

So you move on. Your path is set and you move towards the Teachers’ Lounge. Behind you, there is a scratching on the floor. Like someone is carrying chains whcih drag along the ground. You turn, but there is no one there. You carry on.

You pass the classrooms that line the left hand side of the hall. Inside you can see people praying. In each one, a single person stands at the whiteboard, still, monolithic. Their heads are all bowed. The dragging chains continue.

Why are they here? It’s too late to be the study group. Why are they here?

You reach the Teachers’ Lounge and push on the door. It slides open without resistance.

The room is pitch black. But there is someone there.

“Hello?” you say. “Is someone there? I need to use your phone.”

The figure turns. Even in the darkness, you see a gleaming white smile.

“Have you come to wake up?”

Why would he ask that? You are awake. Why would he ask that?

You turn to stare back down the corridor you have come from, now lit by candles. The prayers have left their classrooms and all stare at you. Their heads are bowed, you cannot see their faces. But you can see their scars. You turn to face the pitch black Lounge. The smiling man speaks again.

“How long before you accept what you are?”

You hear the chains again a second before they wrap around your throat and pull you back. You spin and catch a glimpse of something barely human. Its face is missing pieces, its eyelids, its lips. It impales you with what should be a hand, but isn’t. You fall backwards, choking, bleeding. The smiling man stands over you, but your vision is fading. You cannot see his face. Only his smile.

Why didn’t you force yourself awake? You always die in your dreams. Why didn’t you force yourself awake?