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EBC:Everything you can...'Blood, terror...swirling, swirling. Gone. Screams, I can't...stop...help. She's dead, why? My fault, all my fault. Don't go....pain, hurt. Why? Why...? I'm...I'm...so sorry...Micha...Help me....I can't.'
"Mountain, sir. Wake up, you're dreaming...Wake up!"
Claws tore up the mossy bed Mountain was sprawled out on. He was shivering, panting...Why? It was just a dream, yes...Just a dream, why was it so real?! Why did it hurt like it was real? The blood-shrieking screams of his sister, Micha. Was it his fault? He did it for her, gave himself for her, yet it killed her. Why? That was the question, why'd she have to die, of all the cats. Why her?
"Mountain, are you okay?" again, a small voice cut through his thoughts. It was Ruby, the healer apprentice. She was a sweet, young cub. Surely, the perfect cat for her position.
"Yes. I'm fine...it was just a bad dream." Mountain said quietly.
Ruby giggled "Yes, I can see that..." she added pointing to his shredded
Bo.When Lindsay was born, Bo was there. Standing beside her mother, he was the first thing she ever saw. But he was not her father; her father stood on the other side.
Bo was there until the very moment she died.
The sun shone bright through the windows of her pink-laden room. She loved pink. And black.
“Because Bo is black,” she’d told her parents.
Her imaginary friend, they soon concluded.
“Bo is all black,” she described one night as her father tucked her in, “His skin and his hair and everything. He doesn’t talk a lot.”
Her father frowned.
“He sounds scary.”
“He’s not,” she insisted.
Bo sat on the bed and said nothing.
Her father kissed her good night and turned out the light.
“Why can’t Dad see you?” she asked.
“Are you real?”
“Are you real?” he replied.
“How do you know?”
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