'Tis past, that melancholy dream!"
Wordsworth
The dream was always the same when he slept, coming to him on tides of darkness to bring his inner eyes to world he never know or wanted to know maybe anymore.
It was cold on his fair skin, smoothing like a feather's touch on the finger tips yet burning with a heat that did not burn. It was a mystery on his mind to have his body in a place of snow and ice yet he felt no true cold in this place. Endless from one turn to the head as far as teal eyes might peer into the endless web of stars and ebony hung over his eyes when he gazed up.
Plains of ice which caught some unnatural light glowed softly under the ebony snow in a dance of unnamed colors to bright or quench for the eye to make sense of. A dream world of white and a aura colors he had created. Did he make it or did his mind much further into the madness? Such questions would dance as a ripple in a pound in his mind.
Shiro was lost to the wonder of this world.
Born of madness or not, it was peaceful and away from them. No pain could reach or touch him as long as stood still and dared not to move from this place.
His own world..
An idea that he owns something frighten the poor boy in the state of shakes for a moment. He had been owned by them, his body belonged to them. To do as they please but now he made a stunning shock.
His mind was own
The soul in the caged flesh was not broken, damaged but not shattered. It was his own soul that made this world. He was his own person if even in a dream for a moment or two.
Aizen could not reach into here and touch him, burn the scars even deeper into his bone or Momo to treat him like some kind of living doll. Dressing him up in cloths or making him have tea. This was his world alone! Yet why?
Where had it come from? He seemed to know it and yet not know it at the same time. Moments of clarity had come to his mind when it was bout to break in the darkness of the cage and chains. Moments that saved what scrapes where left of the mind of the young boy, cling on to those thoughts like a candle alone. Whispers of her in his mind..
That woman whose lips whispered his name, a name he could not hear or understand yet but gave a feeling, an emotion he feared more then pain.
Hope.
Could she be here?
He had a feeling of no shake in the pale winds on his cheeks, kissing them slightly maybe as she might have in long ago dreams.
Shiro only let a tiny press of lips form a smile so faint for that moment as he felt himself being pulled back to the reality of a nightmare. He had a feeling he would and could come back to this world once more of icy plains. Knowing let his mind at ease he could own his own body here and mind with out the demons clawing at his identity once more.
More then a doll to them.
More then a toy.
He knew one thing from this winter dream that would give hope back to his soul.
He was human still and very alive!
Words:
I did a little one shot from Cage to get back into writing and kill my block of the moment!
