My Friend

I was lying in a field, my shadow slowly growing taller. I was currently alone, and there was nobody in sight. I sighed, sad at my fate. I was doomed to forever be isolated from others, a wretched existence that others feared and hated. Alone. Such and intimidating and fear inducing word. Forever. Something many people try to attain and keep. Together, forever alone, was just about the only term that describes me.

Whenever people see me, which is a spare few anyways, given who and what I am, they always run away and scream in fear. That is always a constant emotion. It is everywhere, always, forever. Am I a monster? Perhaps I am. If you can call a lonely being searching for friendship a monster, I suppose so.

I have had few friends, they soon left though. Humans don't last forever after all, while I continue to exist. This state of being is something called 'immortal,' a title which I wish I did not have to carry. Who knows how old I am? I certainly don't know. Never really bothered to keep track. I have long years behind me, and an eternity in front of me, so no, age isn't important to me.

My only real connections to those who are mortal are their dreams. Humans are so vulnerable in their sleep, leaving their minds wide open like that. I certainly wasn't complaining though. It was how I made my friends. Walking into their dreams is quite easy, like walking through an open door. I do it often, but I normally just watch, not interfering, unless they are really interesting. Occasionally I will try to keep one with me for extended periods of time, but they always leave me.

I wonder why? Do they not like me? It seems however, that whenever I go searching for them, they are gone. Like they dropped off the face of the planet. I wonder how they do that. They just leave life, like it was something easy, commonplace. Something I wish very hard for. When they leave, I never see them again, and my loneliness persists throughout the ages.

My sordid thoughts are interrupted by the shrill scream of a boy being chased over a nearby hill. After several minutes of continued shrieking, and soon accompanied by a lower bellowing, I finally reach the end of my patience, and walk over to the commotion.

The curl is what first catches my attention. As the boy runs, his eyes streaming tears, yelling in Italian about training, it continues to defy gravity. The man chasing him is a blond German man of considerable build and intimidating stature. The sharp blue eyes pass over me, without seeing me, but still runs chills down my spine from the coldness found in them.

The German man is yelling at the poor boy, because he refuses to come back with him to train. The boy wants to nap and eat pasta, a demand I find reasonable. The German man finally catches up with the Italian, and gives him a hard hit to the top of his head, admonishing him for skipping out on their "schedule which has to be followed to the T" as the German put it. The boy sniffled, sadly nodded, and trudged behind the still irritated German.

I let them leave, and feel slightly bad for the Italian, the German appears to be a hard taskmaster at best, and a slave driver at worst. I sigh, and move towards a giant tree. I sit under its shade, and let the cool wind flow over me. There is a lake near me, and the wind ruffles its cool surface, creating little ripples.

The sun soon begins to set, and I get up from my comfortable position, and walk over to the lake. I look at my reflection, but soon look away, barely standing the sight of me. I take a step into the water, but none of it touches me. I continue to descend, completely dry, into the reflection of the lake. I cannot stay out in the human world for long, so I live in the mirrors and reflections that the people create. It is also quite convenient for moving around.

I walk around for a while, until I reach another reflection, a large rectangular upright one that I assume is a mirror. I look into it and see a little girl, a bow in her hair, brushing her hair in preparation for bed. I move on. I check several other mirrors, until I find one, someone asleep. I carefully step out into their room, making no noise. I look down on their sleeping figure, and delve into their dreams.

I seemed to forget to mention that I feed off of dreams, good or bad. The more intense the dream, the better I feed. The moment I enter the dream, it intensifies manifold. I breathe in the fresh scent of a loamy forest, mist hanging ominous just above the forest floor. I turn at the howl of a wolf, and wait. The wolves dutifully urge my victim towards me as I lie in wait.

The man is about 5'8, dirty blond hair, and deep blue-violet eyes. Those same eyes are filled with fear as he runs from the pursuing wolves. He is wearing a tattered cape, and holds in his arms a small child. The child has whiteish blond hair and purple eyes. The running man breathes harshly as he curses the wolves chasing him. He hides momentarily behind a tree, but catches sight of me. He stares at me confused for a moment. The wolves surround him in his moment of hesitation, but do not dare to move on him without my express permission.

I move towards the man, my shadowy hands reaching outwards towards him. He cowers in fear, attempting to shield the figment-child from me. I take his head between my hands, and begin stealing his dream. Slowly details begin to get fuzzy, and fade into the background. Slowly all color fades from the dream, along with the wolves and the child. Once it goes completely black, I leave the man, still kneeling on the ground.

I exit the man's dream, and retreat back into his mirror. I wander around until I find another mirror. I watch, to find another sleeping, and enter their room. I slip into their dream as I did for the man before this, but this time not to feed, but to rest. I enter, to find a field of flowers, a tree, and a lake, much like the one he had been in earlier today. Shrugging away the similarities, I lay down under the tree, and let my mind rest.