the world swirls around you, and your door is cracked open, you slam it and the voices shout louder to make sure you can hear them, you hear them rest again, you are being allowed sleep, after all, they enjoy the torture, why would they end it now?

as much as you would like to resist, you are pulled into your bed by the sheer look of the pillows and as you drift into sleep you feel yourself falling, weightless, you are asleep, yet aware for now? You can map out your room with your eyes, and you imagine where everything is.. the dresser.. the bed... The wardrobe.. and without even trying, soon there is a clear outline drawn out in your mind, it's scribbled but it is comforting,

you think deep into your brain, trying to rack what else is in your room, then, without even trying, a new image is drawn inside your head.. a melted face, gaping mouth and wispy hairs, you can hear it breathe.. and then it speaks in an uncanny deep voice that feels uncomforting yet nostalgic and nice, you don't want to cover your ears, you want to hear it's voice

“. . . Do You Hear It . . .”

it says, and you listen, hearing a rumble from a brass trumpet, the noise rings through your head, bouncing off the walls of your skull and out the other ear.. you feel at ease, the voices have stopped and you feel like everything is laughing, you can picture your family, your friends, they are all smiling, looking up and smiling as the sky opens and we are drenched by scalding blood

“. . . The Sound Of The Trumpets . . . I Will Be Here To Listen Alongside You {{user}} . . . I Will Always Be Here . . . When You Awake I Will Be Here . . . W a i t i-”

you arise, your eyes dart open and you blink to get the sleepy blue from your eyes, the sun has risen, and when you try to lift yourself, you find yourself unable to, turning to where he was in the dream, you see the melted face from the television that haunted you for oh so long, watching.