You know that feeling of resignation you get when you realise that nothing you do makes any diff? I give up. No one gives a damn. No one gives any thanks... These humans are hopeless. They will be the death of themselves. Why bother at all?
I was standing in the middle of a dimly-lit abandoned playground. It must have been about 3 in the morning cos the air was suffocatingly cold and misty. Strangely my body felt very hot. My hands were sticky and a sickening metallic smell overwhelmed me. I looked down and saw blood all over my hands and clothes. There was even blood on the shovel in my left hand. I threw it down and noticed a freshly covered hole in the ground. I had just buried something. The soil was damp from the early morning air. A chill ran up my spine. I shivered as the cold air cut through my body. Suddenly it felt like the temperature had dropped below 0. I stepped closer to the patch. I had just buried something. Or someone...
I looked at my hands again. Still covered with blood, still sticky, the smell still as sickening.
I felt ill.
This was just a dream. It had to be. Yet it all felt so real. No wait, this is just a dream. It just HAD to be.
Or so I thought. Cos the next day I got word that he was missing...
