Gold-colored sky atop mountains. “We know you,” he says in a somber whisper. His voice shakes, standing on unstable earth. His legs speak in a whimper. They are shackled. They are new. Yet they fear the haze hiding behind clouds atop mountains.
There, above, lives space. So empty, so… humble. There we search for screams. Feeding the fear that makes us tremble.
In the dark, we lay. Our eyes open. Our eyes always open until the fear from sleep deprivation grips our wrists. Ah, such a terror in our hands. There beyond the sky lays a hand. Written on its wrist is a date. Some hollow number filled, carved like an empty pumpkin. Filled with nightmares. Filled with ghosts, with witches, with children. Tonight we lay with our eyes open. As we shut our eyes we hear…a…SCREAM!