The Wind beneath My Wings

Misty lay asleep in her bed; her hair gently cascaded over her pillow as she shifted in her deep slumber. She may have looked peaceful, yet the dream she was facing was far from peaceful.

Reader, I shall show you what our heroine was dreaming.

Misty was sprinting through the trees as the warmth of the blood continued to stream down from the wound on her forehead and the one on her forearm. Her throat stung as she panted heavily, feeling exhaustion consume her. Her attacker wasn't too far behind, they walked behind her, and they felt no need to run, knowing she'd soon give out.

"I can't let this happen…No…No…" she thought, "I must press on…I have to…"

She leapt into the air spreading her wings, sadly after a few minutes of gliding she fell into the braches of a lone tree on a cliff; her grip was slowly giving way.

"HELP! HELP!" she shrieked in her dream," Please this isn't funny!"

With that she fell, the blanket of darkness consumed her then-

She woke up. Panting heavily, her forehead dotted with sweat. She checked around herself.

No blood, no scars, just the tears of fear on her cheek, "………" she wanted to say something but her throat was sealed shut with fear.

Charlotte was looking into her daughter's room with a worried expression on her face. "Misty…" she began walking over and embracing her mess of a child.

"It was a dream sweetie…a very very bad dream. I'm here now…it's over."

Misty curled into her mother's arms, shaking lightly as her mind was still poisoned with the memories of that awful nightmare.

"M-mommy…" she said quietly, Charlotte's eyes widened; it had been a while since she'd been called that.

"Hm?"


"In my dream……Dad was there…then all of a sudden…he disappeared and someone beat me up then…" her voice trailed off.

Charlotte rubbed her back and hesitantly said," I…I know someone who can help……"

These words. These words readers……were words Charlotte never wished to ever say; but she knew what had to be done. She had to send her poor daughter off to the one thing that could unravel her entire plan of keeping certain things secret.

"H-his name is……" Charlotte paused.

Misty raised a brow in question.

Charlotte was about to speak when a knock was at the door.

"Erm…wait right here Mist-Mist."

Charlotte ran downstairs and answered the door, "Oh, it's…you…" she trailed off.

Lavaine's face sunk a bit, "We…we heard screaming…"

Charlotte glanced behind him to see the brotherhood of justice on her front lawn, "Get out of here!" she hissed quietly," I don't want Misty to be exposed to this group……you're lucky I even let her take that stupid job…" with that the door clicked shut in Lavaine's face.

Lavaine felt a crack in his heart, as if someone had taken it and cracked it like an egg in their hand, his inner feeling oozing on their hand, the strength and loyalty of the "shell" broken.

"S-stupid job?" He stammered.

Harold sighed, "It looks like I have some explaining to do when we get back home." He whispered to one of the other members.

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Charlotte returned to Misty's room, "It was just a solicitor. Get some sleep, honey…we'll talk in the morning."

Misty nodded, yet couldn't help but feel as if something really bad was about to show it's ugly, unwanted face very soon.

She buried herself beneath the covers and took her dad's picture off her nightstand; she stared into his deep blue eyes, at his crooked, cocky smirk, his mop of brown hair, and at his favorite leather jacket.

She ran her thumb over the frame, "I miss you daddy…" Misty leaned across and set the picture back on the nightstand.

Before she could get back to sleep she stared up at the ceiling, watching her fan's blades rotate and rotate; before…at last…she closed her eyes.

The nightmare didn't pop into her brain again…instead…an even worse one took it's place.
In it, Misty was sitting with Lavaine; just talking and enjoying his company.

When, all of a sudden the ground beneath them separated them onto two separate sides of a long, deep, seemingly bottomless chasm, she could fly across, except she noticed her wings had been injured severely from the hellfire spitting out from the pit.

As for Lavaine, he was injured on his arm and had scratches on his face from the burning, molten embers.

Lavaine tried to shout to her but his words disappeared of the hellish moans of undead souls from the depths of the chasm.

Once again, Misty awoke screaming. Yet reader…what's even scarier is that out spiky friend Lavaine had the exact same dream once he got home.

A truly awful night, even the stars refused to come out from behind the dark, swirling clouds that hung in the sky like rags; meant to block the light of the moon from reaching down and meeting the horrors that were showing themselves below.