Forbidden Dreams

Chapter Five: Forbidden Dream #1

It was a beautiful day outside. The spring breeze was welcomed under the bright sun overhead. Just on the outskirts of her hometown, Alex was dressed in old shorts and t-shirt, hair pulled into a messy ponytail. An easel stood in front of her, and the rolling field stretched out in front of her was already painted on the large piece of sturdy paper. However, the beautiful landscape wasn’t the only thing she had painted; two angels were also there, one white winged and the other black winged. All around her, other paintings were there, already finished; they were leaning against a nearby tree, resting flat on the ground, against the easel…

The others were all different. She had used the sky above her for some- a beautiful kingdom in the sky, glistening in the sun; that same kingdom all torn and broken down; a gaping hole in the field before her, leading up to the largest castle you could ever imagine; dragons lazing around and sunning, some flying in the air; a dark elf queen among some of her subjects…

Setting down her palette and brush next to her, she stepped back, head tilted to the side. Arms crossed, standing with more weight on her left side, she eyed her piece critically. The black winged angel had one mangled wing, the other partially open and his arms were thrown up to protect him from his brother. The one adorning white wings had a fierce look about him, his hands grasping a diamond dagger and a sense of duty seemed to exude from the painted portrait. Yet it was obvious he was about to commit an act that wasn’t so pure.

Finally, the young woman blinked and glanced around. She gazed at all of her paintings and then back to the one in front of her. Her gray eyes widened in shock when the black-winged angel lowered his arms and turned his head. His eyes were filled with sorrow, and he moved his lips to mouth, ‘save me’.

“Will you?”

Not having known that she had an audience, Alex spun around as the wind picked up. It toyed with her hair as she gazed at a tall, fit man. His skin was porcelain, with soft brown eyes and white hair. She found herself wary around him, eyeing him with suspicion; which was odd, considering the gentle white aura that he was exuding. “Excuse me?”

With a graceful gesture of his arm, he motioned towards the picture. Turning her head to look at it, she jumped a little when she saw that both angels were now animated. “Will you help him?” She barely heard him, her eyes glued to the scene in the painting. The white angel was gaining on the black one; she found herself silently urging him to succeed, not to give up. She glanced back at the strange man once, gasping when she looked back to see the white angel bringing the dagger up to plunge into the other’s chest.

Lurching forward, she snatched her paintbrush, and painted a shield in the white angel’s way. His dagger clashed harmlessly against the metal armor, and the black angel used it to slam into him and fly away. Alex dropped the paintbrush then, staring at her work before slowly turning back to the man. He was still there, but his expression had changed from neutral to angry. Nothing was said for a while.

Then, “I knew it.” The man strode forward. She hastily backed away from him, not wanting to get too close. He stopped beside the easel; the moment his eyes fell on it, it burst into flame.

“Hey!” she protested, as he continued to set her works to fire, burning them into ashes. “Those aren’t yours to destroy! Cut it out!” She stormed forward and stood right in front of him, obstructing his view. He stared down at her, eyes ablaze.

“These paintings- your dreams- they are filth. Absolute blasphemy.” The disdain he held in his gaze was almost sickening in its potency. She scowled at him, enraged.

“They are mine. Who are you to judge their content? Who do you think you are, some sort of god?”

It was then that realization hit her- it was like an epiphany from your biggest nightmare. Gray orbs stretched wide and a step back was taken. The white aura he had been giving off was now close to his body, not spreading out as much any longer. A sick feeling settled into the pit of her stomach. “Now you understand your biggest mistake, Alex Bowleigh.”

The feeling of dread vanished at his snickered words. Instead her eyes hardened and she glared up at him. “I’m not afraid of you,” she said, throwing the truth of her words into his teeth; he jolted, gazing at her incredulously.

“I am God. I can send you straight to Hell. How can you possibly not be afraid of me?” He drew himself up straighter. The power of his presence was brought down upon her, weighing down her mind; she could swear he was trying to suffocate her. It began to press on her shoulders, and with a jolt she realized he was trying to drive her to her knees, forcing her into submission.

But she was stubborn, and independent until death. Gritting her teeth, she remained standing, glowering at God in all of his god-like glory. “Not afraid; you’re just pathetic.” And she shoved against the pressure on her mind, relieving it from her shoulders. Straightening a little, for she had slumped a bit under the pressure, she watched in satisfaction as he took a step back, thrown off balance. “Bring on Hell. I’d much rather go there than have to suffer with you for the rest of eternity!”

At first, his expression was shocked…and was that fear lurking in his eyes? But it was gone soon after she saw it, replaced with smugness . “You already are, filth.”

The ground underneath her crumbled. Falling backwards, she fell into the Earth; rock flew past her, and she twisted as she free-fell down. She saw the castle she had drawn fast approaching, squeezing her eyes shut as she approached it at an alarming fast rate. I can’t survive this! I’ll be impaled by one of the towers! What was I thinking, drawing a castle with spires!

When she hit something solid, it wasn’t what she had expected. Peeking open first one eye, then the other, she turned her head around to see a man’s face. He had caught her just above a tower. His huge black wings were keeping them in the air- the rich black hair on his head and his stunning blue eyes only increased his attractiveness. “…Thanks….Whoever you are.”

He only winked. “Anytime, miss. You don’t quite belong down her yet, though.” Only flapping his wings once and they shot back through the gaping hole that God had created. Setting her down gently on a street in town, he smirked at her. “Keep out of trouble, will you?”

“No promises.” He flew away without another word, and she just waved. Walking down the street, she started to hum softly to herself, until…

Alex.

She stopped. …Really? Turning, she eyed the alleyway she had somehow appeared in front of. Her second epiphany within the past hour- this was a dream. The recurring one; but never had that first part happened before…

Alex!

This time she didn’t hesitate. Striding confidently, she entered the alleyway. A few steps in, she was plunged into darkness; her gray eyes couldn’t pick up anything. The rustling of wings reached her ears, growing louder as she got closer to the end. Finally she did, stopping instinctually, peering around.

Finally, a person stepped from the shadows. She recognized him instantly; Dusk’s wings were barely visible in the darkness that pressed in on them. “Do you see?”

Knowing he wasn’t being literal with his question, she just gazed at him, a slight frown touching her lips. “What do you mean, Dusk?”

He only smiled, gaze softening. “…Let me ask something else. Are you on our side?”

She glanced behind her, greeted by black. But it didn’t oppress her anymore, and it didn’t scare her. She realized this dream wasn’t just a dream, it had been the Guardian Angel’s attempt to warn her of God’s upcoming decision. She turned back to him then, understanding filling her gaze. “All the way.”

It faded out and she opened her eyes. Turning her head, she saw that the clock read seven in the morning. She moved her head again to stare up at the ceiling of her room. She didn’t move for a long time, but after awhile, she lifted her head to look over at Isabelle. She was still asleep on the floor (and only God knows why she prefers the floor over a bed), sound asleep in fact. Alex then looked from the slumbering brunette to a corner of her room, where the paintings from her dream were being stored.

And it all made sense to her now. It all made sense.