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"Isn't it lovely, all aloneHeart made of glass, my mind of stoneTear me to pieces, skin to boneHello, welcome home"

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"Isn't it lovely, all alone
Heart made of glass, my mind of stone
Tear me to pieces, skin to bone
Hello, welcome home"

"Isn't it lovely, all aloneHeart made of glass, my mind of stoneTear me to pieces, skin to boneHello, welcome home"

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

     The lightning cracked as the storm raged with anger. The once clear and airy sky was gone; replaced with the gray clouds of wrath.

I stand in the middle of the forest. The canopy of trees above me proves no aid from the freezing rain droplets. I have no doubt I'll catch a cold out here.

"Hello?" I scream, hoping someone—anyone, would here. My once warm clothes are drenched, clingy to me like a wetsuit that won't warm.

"Is anyone out there?" The storm has become more angry, violent even.

I've always hated storms.

"My dear, sweet Lydia Emery." An angelic voice, I'd convinced myself I'd never hear again, coos.

My eyes widen in shock. "Mom?"

She steps out from the tree trunks. Wow. Compared to me, she's completely dry. Her long raven hair is curled to perfection. Those beautiful hazel eyes glisten in amusement laced with adoration.

"Mom!" I cry and run into her arms. "I missed you!" She hugs me impossibly tighter. I step back abruptly and give her a pointed look.

"Why'd you do it?" Her smile falls at my question.

"Mom!" I urge. Suddenly, her neck turns purple and she falls to the ground. "Mom!" I scream.

Then . . . she's gone.

I sit up with a gasp. My breath hitches in my throat when a loud crack of lightning fills the deathly silence.

It was only a dream—no, a nightmare. The first one I've experienced since her death. I subconsciously lifted my hand and wipe the tears I was oblivious of. Flinging back the gray duvet cover, I place my cold feet on the hardwood floor. I'm not sure why I'm doing it, but my feet carry me to the window. I stare at the velvet curtains. Would he be on the other side?

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