Crying Without Eyes

We'll start by saying this. None of this is fake, but at the same time, can't be proven true. Nothing is what we conceive it to be. Nothing.
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Let's start at the beginning. When I was younger, I had the most bizarre dreams. Dreams where space and time didn't matter and nature didn't apply to anyone. I had so many dreams that I really didn't pay attention to them. I thought that they were normal dreams, the same dreams that everyone else has. But that's just the thing, all dreams are different, aren't they?
I have a class with a good portion of my friends in it, all of us sitting at the same table. We're into manga and anime, we talk about weird things, making up the loudest table in the class. We have fun. One day, we got into a conversation about dreams. I didn't really take part in this conversation very much until my friend brought up a rather interesting recurring character in her dreams. She called him the grey haired boy.
This interested me because I have a grey haired boy in my dreams too. I pulled her aside after class, telling her about this, and we started seeing that we were describing the same person. He ages quickly throughout the dream, and as it progresses he becomes scratched up and dirty, his clothing becoming ripped and tattered. The same person in different people's dreams.
That night, I fell asleep rather quickly. Most nights I go to bed around 10:30 and fall asleep around 11:45 to 12:30. I had a dream. That dream was the most horrifying dream ever, stuck in my mind forever.
I dreamt that I was in a small room, lit by candlelight. There was a door on the far end of the room, opposite of me. Next to the door was a desk, and on the desk was a picture frame with no picture in it. My legs gave way and I fell to the ground, but I didn't feel the pain as my hands took all the shock of the fall. This was a common thing in my dreams, so far I wasn't surprised or startled by anything.
My body started to control itself, getting up automatically. As I got up, I started to make my way over to the picture frame. As I approached the desk, I pulled a folded piece of paper out of my pocket. Setting it on the desk, I opened the frame, unfolded the paper and put it in the frame, putting it back together and setting it down. It was a picture of the grey haired boy.
I felt a warm, yet cold sensation go over my body, causing me to turn around. There was a door where I was standing before with a note on it. As I approached the door, the note changed somehow. It warped itself, changing the words by itself. It read "Everything you need is in here." I opened the door, and I woke up.
The next night, the dream continued from the same place it left off, like I wasn't done with a task. I was opening the door, and inside the door was a broken mirror and another note. This note didn't change by itself, it read "Take a shard of glass, use it well." I didn't understand this. Why glass? Again, my body acted on its own and took a shard of glass. I turned around and went to the next door. I opened it up, and standing there was the grey haired boy. From past dreams, he had always been a friend, talking kindly to me. He waved and walked away, through a dark corridor that disappeared.
Continuing on, I found myself in a large common area. Around me were shadow people, talking to each other in a language of gibberish, yet I understood them. If I were to describe the shadow people, they were faceless, tall and dark. All but one who had a mask on, was short and grey. A different grey from the grey haired boy, a grey that seemed unnatural.
Suddenly, all of the shadow people but that one disappeared, and the room evaporated in a mist. From behind him, the grey haired boy appeared. He was smiling at me. He told me that this is the faceless dream. It's real, but not real. That's when it happened. Blackish blue tears fell from the mask, where the eyes would be. The grey haired boy said that it was time to go. The whole world went black, and I was alone.
The next day, I was walking out to the bus stop. On the side of the road, I saw a small figure run into the trees, dropping something. I ran over to what it dropped. The mask, with black tear marks streaming down the front, crying without eyes.
Category:Dreams/Sleep
Category:Beings