Light.

Light hit my retinas, beams assaulting my eyes and forcing me to close them again. My ears were filled with a high-pitched, annoying beeping, specifically coming from my right. I lay there, staring at the white ceiling absently. I felt nothing. I didn't want to feel anything. It was cold. Bright. And that was the only thing I found positive in that moment.

Eventually I pushed myself to get up. My hand found the button on the alarm clock sitting on the nightstand next to my bed. A click, and the beeping stopped. 6:50 AM. I should get ready, or Taiga'll be late. And so will I.

Quickly I changed my clothes, got ready, and left my room. The hall, having no windows in it, was darker. Muted hues of blue and grey found my eyes as I continued on my way and knocked on one of the four doors in the short hall.

"Taiga?" My voice was a bit hoarse, and I cleared my throat subsequently.

No answer. I figured he was still sleeping, so I stepped inside. Sure enough, a lump sat on the bed on the far side of the room, a wreck of black hair the only thing showing from underneath the light grey covers draped over it. I carried myself across the room, my eyes not leaving the bed as I knelt down slightly. I put my hand on his shoulder and shook him slightly, just enough to jostle him from dreams.

"Taiga, wake up," I whispered. "Time for school."

After a few moments, Taiga shifted his position to face me. Bright blue eyes stared at me through half-closed eyelids, pupils contracted as light shone into them. My gaze couldn't help but falter as I saw them, but I immediately found them again and smiled slightly.

"Good morning."

"Hi." Taiga's voice was sleep deprived, despite me knowing for a fact he went to bed at 8, like he always does.

I stared at him a moment, contemplating asking him. But I didn't, resorting to only saying, "Get ready for school. I'll make some breakfast."

"Okay." Taiga blinked, yawning as he got up. I gave him a light shoulder pat and walked out of his disorganized, yet mostly empty room, continuing through the living room and into the kitchen.

Somehow, even in the fifteen minutes it took for Taiga to get ready, I couldn't figure out what to make. However, Taiga wasn't offended or mad. He just looked around, figured out I wasn't going to be any help in sustenance, and got a box of cereal from the cabinet. I just followed his lead, making myself a bowl as well.

Silence. That's how most mornings went along. After waking him up, we barely speak a word, even as we dump our bowls in the sink, Taiga grabs his backpack, and we walk out to my car.

Silence, ever silence. It sustained itself as I drove down the road. My hands gripped the wheel tightly, as if any less pressure would send us crashing into the ditch. I focused on nothing except the concrete road ahead and under the tires, each bump in the road, each change of the wind against the metal sides of the car. I didn't need to focus on anything else - I saw Taiga's eyes drifting distantly out the window at the passing scenery. He's not much of a talker.

It wasn't too long before I dropped Taiga off at school and I was on my way to work. It was about a ten minutes' drive, and I pulled in at about 7:30. The sun was up, but fiery orange still set the horizon ablaze. It went along with the bright yellow logo mounted above the doors, the golden semicircle with rays that bloomed like petals. The words "Sunrise Coffee" were mounted beneath, fading from gold to a scarlet orange. By the time I'd clocked in and joined my other coworkers to start the day, the embers in the sky had died and were replaced by a crisp blue, splashed with bursts of grey and white fluffy clouds.

A blur of a routine morning, and eventually a voice penetrated my blank mind. A familiar one, one that, deep down, brought a bit of a spark in the darker, cloudy abyss of my mind. I met light brown eyes that stared at me and I smiled a little.

"Hey, Agnes," I said. I put the label on the warm cup I was holding and set it on the counter, calling out the name that was on it.

Agnes was... probably the only person that I consider a friend out of everyone I know. We'd been closer in high school, but there was a period of time where we didn't talk. I blame myself for that, foolish as I was at the time. But we're on good terms now. Better than being alone, I guess.

"Sleep well?" Agnes asked. He brushed a strand or two of strawberry blonde hair out of his face and called out a name as well, setting a cold drink on the counter near the cup I'd set.

"Eh. Better than usual, but not great." This was accompanied by a bit of a tired sigh.

Agnes smiled a little. "Well, better than usual is okay enough." His expression went slightly more serious. "Did you... have a different dream, or...?"

"No," I replied quickly. "I think it was the same. There wasn't... much different about it."

"Wasn't much?" Agnes started on another drink as he talked. "Was there something different or not?"

"I don't even know," I exhaled a little. "Might just be my imagination. Why are we keeping track of my dreams, anyway? It's literally the same one every night without fail."

Agnes called out another name as he set the drink on the counter before turning back to me. "Because if the dream changes, that might mean there's something wrong. Or maybe it means you're making progress, and eventually it may even go away."

"I don't want it to go away, though." I frowned at the suggestion, looking to the ground. "It's... it's an odd dream, but it's the only place I can... be with them, you know?"

"Mazhun..." Agnes sighed. "I'm no expert, but I know it's not helping you in any way. You may think it is, but I think it's making it harder for you to let go."

"The hell are you talking about?" I rolled my eyes at him, taking a paper someone was handing me with another order. I walked across the area behind the counter we were at to grab a cup. "Nothing's wrong with it. It's something that brings me a sort of happiness, is all."

"Okay," He glared at me, though it wasn't a glare of anger. "If something you do while you're awake brings you a sort of nostalgic happiness or whatever, that's usually fine. But this is a dream, Mazhun. A dream. It's not real. And it's giving you a lot of trouble in letting go of the past."

"I'm fine, Agnes." I finished making the drink and placed it on the counter, calling out another name. I didn't look at him as I walked back across the area. "I don't need to 'let go' or whatever. I'm perfectly happy with reliving the past in my dreams. It's nice. It's a break from reality."

"Well, that reality includes your life and your son. You have that to take care of, you know."

"It's not like I'm purposefully sleeping all the time to be happy in dreams or something," I argued, turning around to face him. "I just let it come whenever it comes."

"Maybe if you gave living without this dream a chance, it'd help."

"I can't really control my dreams, Agnes."

"Well, maybe keep your mind off of it and it'll stop," Agnes shrugged. "

"How could I? It's all I wanna think about." 11:20. Lunch break. I exited the counter area and went into the break room. Agnes followed behind me. Instead of taking a chair, I sat down against the pale yellow wall and hid my face with my arms and knees. As if that would make him disappear and stop worrying about me so much. Unfortunately, he was a better friend than I deserved, and sat down next to me.

"Here. You seemed to act like something was different about the dream. Just tell me what you saw, and we can figure it out." He smiled comfortingly.

I gave him a slight side eye before sighing, relaxing and putting my head over my arms instead of behind them. "Fine."

Agnes nodded, and prepared to listen.

I hesitated, and took a deep breath. He knew every detail I told him about these dreams every day, but I still felt uneasy when I told him aloud. "I was sitting on the bench on the playground back in Trojan woods. It was cold, the wind was blowing, and there was snow. The kids were playing, as usual - one on the swing, one swimming in the lake. I think Taiga's there, too, somewhere - I feel at ease as if he is, he's just not in sight. And I just feel... calm when I'm there. Happy. More than nostalgia, just... happy."

Agnes processed this and nodded. "What did you feel was different?"

"The snow." I didn't hesitate now. "I don't pay much attention to how hard the wind is blowing, but I could tell it was blowing harder than usual. I don't think it means anything. There. Now we're done here."

Agnes hesitates a moment before he nods again. "Okay. I'm not sure, really. It might mean something, but I don't really know what because it's such a minor change. Thank you for telling me."

I exhaled, standing up and walking away without a word.

-

I closed the door perpendicular to the front and placed the plastic bag on my arm on the counter. Voices were heard in the living room, sort of muffled by the wall. Cheery, Australian voices talking about... something. I couldn't tell. After putting the food I'd gotten at the store on my way home in the fridge where they belonged, I made my way into the living room. Taiga was sitting on the couch, his blue eyes transfixed on the television across the room. Bipedal, square-shaped dogs with Australian accents talked to each other, a happy family playing a game. I wasn't sure why he watched the show, when it was so obviously made for children younger than him, but it was alright and he enjoyed it, so I didn't burst his bubble. Without saying a word I sat down next to him. He didn't look up at me. A few moments of awkward silence filled the air before I spoke.

"How was school?" I asked, unsure of what else to start a conversation with.

"Fine." Taiga's voice was dragged, monotone. Without the childish emotion most kids his age portrayed.

"Homework?"

"Finished."

"Good." I stared at the floor. "Anything interesting happen?"

"No."

"Tests? Anything?"

"No."

Silent again. That was what most of the air in this house was used for. Silence was all we knew. Nothing to say, so we say nothing. It was just us, after all. No one else really to talk to, nothing else to talk about.

The question I meant to ask this morning stood prominent in my mind. Eventually I cleared my throat and said,

"I meant to ask this morning, but... how are they?"

Now Taiga didn't reply for a moment. His eyes shifted just below the TV, away from the happy family of dogs and to the DVD player set on the shelf below it. The blue light next to the disk slot glowed, reflecting in his distant eyes. I heard his voice again, however, after a few moments.

"Tristan's anxious about something." Taiga said this with a heavy exhale. I couldn't see his face anymore, his hair obscuring his features from me. "I think it might just be his nerves, though. Marina hasn't changed. It's a bit colder there, though."

I took note of this, though I knew I'd never recall it. "Okay."

And so we sat in silence again.

-

After a solemn, ever-quiet dinner, I led Taiga to bed. He seemed to be deep in thought as he walked beside me without a word. I didn't look at him as we walked down the hall, my heart beginning to beat a bit faster as I inched closer and closer to a blissful sleep. I barely said goodnight to Taiga, just patted his shoulder and sent him on his way as I entered my room, closed the door, and flopped on the bed.

The ceiling was dark, muted by the absence of light. The silver moon slipped through the grey curtains, dimly illuminating a blank, monotone space. I liked the simplicity of it. More stuff meant more distractions, distractions that were too loud for my eyes. It made it hard to sleep. Currently the only things present in the room were aforementioned curtains and the nightstand next to my bed. That nightstand contained a lamp and three pictures - two of which being a boy and a girl, both around the age of four or five, and the third being of Taiga, a more recent school picture. My eyes laid on those pictures for a few solid minutes, the childish energy emitted from their happy faces bringing a small smile to my face.

My eyes began to grow heavy. The pictures faded in and out of view, time slowing as my mind wound down. Eventually I found myself wrapped in darkness, comforted by those presences that were always there but always just out of reach.

-

2251 words

Y'all say hi to Mazhuuuun he's depressed if ya can't tell-

Anyway hope you like this so far! Trying to put as much symbolism, foreshadowing, and mystery as I can, so if I'm failing please tell meeee :)