Never did they think of what might have become. I myself never had really saw it coming. Maybe my subconscious had; though I never really believed in the "hidden knowledge in the subconscious" schtick. I always thought that what I known was always there, no doubt about it.

I guess they always assumed that my eyes would reflect the stereotypical skies forever, a deep, clear, joyful blue. A blue that would never grow wary and tired. A blue that reflected everything happy in life. Little did they realize that my once energetic, clear cerulean eyes... Would reflect the jaded, grey skies of my own nation. The kind of grey that fades all the clouds together, unmarking the lines to differentiate which cloud is which, smothering shades together.

I slipped my hands in my pockets. Just another day of trying to slip by. My footsteps falling, metronome, against the ground. 1...2...3...4...1...2...3...4. My heals echo against the ground. They echo against my life. I build my mask around my being. My soul's shoulders, naturally hunched over and fallen, are straightened and broadened. My soul's feet, which are naturally dragging, are picked up in a steady pace. A smile is forced upon my blank and sarcastic exterior, bored eyebrows are raised and laughter exuberates from my diaphragm.

I don't know why I put this mask on myself every day. Perhaps I get a sick pleasure knowing that they really have no idea what they see, is a lie. That what they hear, are all lies, that what they feel is all a lie. They don't hate me, they hate the mask I have created. They hate the multicolored outer shell. When they look at me, they don't look to see. When they hear me, they don't hear to listen. If they paid close enough attention, they would pick up on the clues. They would see my wretched grey eyes, they would see the corners around my mouth, turned ever so slightly into a frown. They would realize that they have created a monster.

I walked down the street with my hands in my pockets, listening to my footsteps. I wasn't sure where I was going, or why I was out this late at night, nor did I care. It was cold enough that I could see my breath floating outward from my numbing lips. It was cold enough that I almost wished that I had brought mittens. Almost. It was the middle of February, a fickle month, not able to decide whether or not if it wants warm or cold.

I walked down a street, taking a turn onto another, only to find myself walking towards a bridge. It wasn't too long, nor was it short; but built over water. The echo of my steps growing quieter against the pavement, I sighed into the wools of my scarf.

What would it feel like, I wonder, pushing my goldened hair back. What would it feel like to have the blackish blue, ice cold waters engulf my body and fill my laughing lungs? What would it feel like to have every inch of my life squeezed from my wretched body? What color would my freckles and moles turn after the water absorbed into the caverns of my body, turned me into a greenish purple?

Placing one calloused hand onto the ledge, I hoisted myself onto it with No problem. Standing up slowly, to savor the moment. The wind brushed my hair back and froze tears into the corners of my eyes. The darkness enveloping me in my streetlight spotlight. I let out an empty laugh, enjoying the sound it made against the choppy Nordic waters.

Behind me I heard whisperings against the wind. A gasp and a sigh. Sounds that were not of my being. I slowly turned, making sure I would not fall off. A slim figure appeared behind me. Despite his slim self, he was muscular, just not beefy. A halo of pale blonde hair, neatly groomed also appeared on this figure. I knew who this was. I knew exactly who this was. I also knew that while he was looking at me there was no mask upon my features. I was naked. I was bare. My soul bared right in front of him.

This is who I was. This is who I really was. This is the man that they had created. This was the man that was filling the empty shell of what used to be Mathias Køhler. I couldn't help but... Laugh. His eyes, usually expressionless, bored... Were wide. The indigo orbs, confused, frightened even.

"Mathias..." his voice barely above a whisper.

I heard myself cackle at the sound of my name. I couldn't stop laughing to even reply. It... Hurt to hear him say my name. It hurt to look at what had become of me.

"Mathias what are you doing..." His words almost lost against the wind.

"What the hell does it look like I'm doing?!" I choked back, swallowing my pain back.

".. Get down from there," he gave me a steady harsh look. His eyes bore into mine.

"Now why would I want to do that?" I felt a grin spread across my face.

This was the first time a long while when my smiles were not mere masks upon my face. I could feel myself getting lighter. The burdens were not mine to bare.

"Mathias please." His eyes were starting to plead. I blinked in surprise.

No. No. He did not really care. A was a trick of the light against the darkness.

"Why are you doing this-" he took a step foreword.

I took a step back, loosing my footing. I felt a gasp of air rush into my lungs. All of a sudden the world was light as a feather. Stars in the night sky turned into my vision. Billions of little lights, looking so precious against the dark black emptiness. Memories flood back, of myself laying on the course summer grass, watching the stars turn in the night sky, with a slender, quiet body next to my side. The body beside me tracing lines into the heavens, playing connect the dots. Making pictures of brave warriors fighting side by side. Illustrations of men feasting in Valhalla.

Would I go to Valhalla? I wondered.

Suddenly I saw Lukas' body midst in my vision, he was floating. He was saying something but I couldn't hear it. The cold trapped around my body flinging tears from my eyes, sending them to join the stars in the heavens, only join man my soul in a matter of moments.

Lukas' hand outstretched and grabbed for the fabric of my coat, his thin fingers coaxing themselves into a death grip. I hear him scream my name but I can't bring myself to care.

I hear an ear splitting crack and everything goes cold. Is this what death feels like? Suddenly water rushes around me and everything goes from cold to frozen in a matter of seconds. I see Lukas fighting with determination to pull my head above the black water. His eyes lock with mine and all I can see is sadness. He lifts my head above my wet tomb and I cannot look away. His breaths increasing in seconds, using his muscles he starts swimming us back to shore. I can't move a muscle. Tears spill out of my eyes and I begin to cry.

I begin to cry out every emotion I am feeling at that moment. Sobs erecting out of my chest and crying out of my mouth. The water starts pouring into my mouth and I begin to choke. Lukas lifts my head higher, out of the water, he's screaming at me but all I can hear is the sound of my choked sobs.

Finally he pulls both of our bodies onto land. It takes from what feels like an eternity, but was only probably a couple of minutes. He wraps his arms around me and lets me burry my head into his chest. He strokes back my freezing hair and whispers to me things that I cannot make out. He's trying to warm us. He pulls me closer and rubs circles against my back. In return I cling to the fabrics of his coat. He whispers comforting words of reassurance, in return I whimper and shiver.

What was I thinking, was one of the first things I am able to make out from him. I don't know the answer myself so I whimper some more. I think he realizes this.

Slowly but surely he pulls us to our feet. He lets me lean against his small, but sturdy frame. Slowly we walk up and back to the pavement, making our journey home. The tears have long since stopped and I'm able to think more clearly now. Exhaustion runs its course throughout my body and I feel my eyes drooping. I just want to sleep. I just want it to be over.

It's all a haze. I cannot see straight. I hear Lukas yelling at me again but I can't make out his words. My vision doubles and fades to black and I feel myself collapse.