The sound of chirping birds brought the boy back to the concious world. He shifted in his soft bed, unwilling to.......soft bed?
He felt the covers on top of him and the feather bed beneath him, the bent springs which had formed from years of being lain on. It was his bed.
He sat up bringing sending the quilt down. He was in his night cloths, the room was his own.
"Takshi!!!" A voice called from down stairs. "Hurry up! Just because its saturday doesn't mean you can sleep all day."
That was his mother! He'd been on a quest to save her from the undead hordes, but that would mean.
"A dream......it was a god damn dream." All his trials, all the people who died. The world plunging into chaos. It had all been made up by his own imagination? How was that possible, he rarely ever dreamed and when he did it was never so vivid. He looked about briefly and saw something on his floor.
'George A romaro Dead trilogy'
He stared for a few moments before sinking back down. Not knowing whether to laugh or cry or keep silent. That nightmare really was just that. It was over now, it never even began.
Mon May 09 10:21:24 2011