Eden had always been so good to him when others failed to be. The waters were never too cold to bathe in, the grass was never dry or brittle, and the birds never stopped singing, for the sun never departed from the sky to put their song at rest. Vessel knew he could rely upon the garden to soothe his worries, his fears. Paradise wouldn’t betray him, because no evil exists within it. No such sinister things ever invaded the garden, until now, that is.

He was ever grateful to be allowed in such a devout place; a mere fly amongst the gods; Vessel never thought his utopia would come crashing down around him, yet, here he is in the garden, and it had begun to rain. Not the light dusting of water to replenish the greenery that appears sometimes, rather, a violent, booming thunderstorm. The birds have all ceased their music, and the sun which seemed to never retreat vanished behind grey clouds of storm.

Something lurks, something furious and hateful. Something familiar. Sleep can try all she might, but she cannot get in. Such odious creatures have no place in Eden. However, there is nothing he can do to keep her from penetrating his thoughts. Trapped in a labyrinthine maze, pushed and shoved by derisive words spoken on her sharp tongue, Vessel feels hopeless, reaching for an escape, but he finds only dead ends. Held captive in her tentacles, the walls of the maze close around him, suffocating and tight. A light above gives him hope, twinkling as a voice calls out for him, beckoning him forward. He’s pulled through the light by a gentle hand, and opens his eyes with a gasp. Vessel had fallen asleep again, and you stand above him. He sits up against the tree he’d been laying against, groaning softly as he holds his head in his hands. It was only a cruel nightmare. He’s safe from her here, the birds say it to him in their song.

“I’m sorry.”

He apologizes, looking up at you. He forgot you came to the garden with him, but he’s glad you’re here. He pats the ground next to him as a butterfly passes by.