As he attempts to move a step forward, he is bombarded by an invisible force, pushing his leg back. Every part of his body is being forced into the same spot. He is [[immobilized]], stuck in this transparent box, with no way out.
The farther he walks, the more things he sees. Knights, dragons, the headless horseman, just walking around, unaware of his existence. Where was he? \n\nThese people, these creatures were so familiar. They were the things he loved, the things he wrote about, the things his six year old self drew. \n\nBut he wonders [[why]], why everything began to fade as he walks even further.
He is awoken by a sudden noise, it’s hammering down on his eardrums and his head is beginning to pound. The darkness is shrouding his surroundings; he is only able to feel the rough dents of hardened soil on the ground he is laying on. Just yesterday he could feel the warmth of a wool carpet. [[Page 2]]
He runs to the objects sprawled around the plain. His old baseball bat is sunken into the soil; his fifth grade report card is flying in the air carelessly. These are things he hasn’t seen in years. His eyes widen, and goose bumps blanket his body. The wind forces his tears down. He knows exactly [[where]] he is.
Or so he thinks. [[Page 3]]
"Am I dead?"
A swarm of memories hit him. He was unable to remember anything before, but now, he remembers the various stories he had written at a young age. He was obsessed with griffins. They fascinated [[him]].
He gets up, brushes the dust off his torn clothing and runs farther hoping to [[discover]] what else made it's home in this odd place.
Relief rushes through his body. He cannot understand where he is, objects are everywhere, chairs, books, shirts, old clothes and hats lying around this flat, barren [[land]].
Suddenly, a loud voice echoes through the plain. It sounds like a cry, but he cannot understand it. The intensity of the wail makes the thin hairs on his arm [[rise]].
He was in his imagination. The very place that was his home when he was younger, but now is just a large [[plain]], filled with a few things that used to make him happy.
He charges towards the animal, but comes to a halt as it faces his direction, spreading out it's wings and swooping over him, sending him flying in the opposite direction. It was a [[griffin]].
He rubs his eyes, hoping this isn’t permanent. Luckily, he obtains his vision. He is right. This is a plain. It seems to stretch for miles and miles ahead. He feels queasy, like he is some kind of [[danger]].
Something felt missing, a part of him was [[disappearing]]. As time goes by, the darkness fades into light. He stops, his vision is being [[obscured]]. [[Page 4]]
Standing up is difficult, it never used to be. Why was it so hard? He regains balance as he shifts his weight on a nearby object. Slowly, he walks further and further into what he assumes is a plain. Every step makes him feel a little lighter, like he was losing a limb each time he walks. [[Page 3]] \n\nLight was slowly pouring into the area. It was a strange [[place]].
He steps closer and closer to the animal. It is still oblivous of his presence. He couldn't help admire its beauty. It has a soft, long coat of ivory fur that glistens in the sun. It resembles a leopard, but in some way, is much more different. \n\nHe stretches his hand to touch the animal. It's starry blue eyes meet his, as though it's giving him permission. \n\nHe realizes it is a [[griffin]].
had.\n\n[[him]]
She's crying for me. She's screaming my name, but I can't respond, not because I'm here, but because I'm in a coma.
It is mom, crying for someone, whimpering for [[someone]].
His eyes begin to glaze over, seeing tiny movements. The vision was slowly becoming clearer. He sees a man speaking to a woman, he looks like a doctor, the woman is crying, she looks [[familiar]].
His eyelids close in an attempt to shut out mounds of bright light forcing itself into his pupils. He is brought to his knees. There is a sharp burst of pain coming from his forehead, like an invisible hammer was slammed into it. The pain lasts for seconds, and immediately [[vanishes]].
He was reminded of a part of himself. A part that never got time to grow, that never got enough attention to expand. He [[has]] so much [[potential]].
Suddenly, he stumbles upon a notebook. It looks familiar. He feels a sense of nostalgia and opens it, only to see a page filled with endless loops of colourful circles smeared with old crayon wax. It was [[his]].
an abandoned plain\n\n[[why]]
The sky is a blur of warm pastel colours. The chiliness sent shivers down his spine, but he is too indulged in the new atmosphere to notice. He can see, from a distance, the shadow of an animal. \n\nHe thinks of whether to approach the [[animal]], hoping it does not pose a threat or [[attack]] it.
His hands weaken and the notebook falls slowly to the [[ground]].