TONIGHT I dream of the sky, of the outer space, of the stars; all speckled against black matter. Planets, moons, the sun, orbiting in a timeless motion, mysterious and vast to our human race. Such a great amount of beauty can be seen in the unknown.

I am merely half-asleep in this dream, Sommer's presence prominent beside me. Her hair tickles my shoulders as she curls up against the side of my body, her gentle breath steady in slumber. With each exhale another galaxy is created within my imagination.

The stars twinkle in the darkness, massive burning structures of gas, fixed luminous points in the night sky, large remote incandescent bodies like the sun, all complimenting each other.

What makes up a star?

Most commonly, the two lightest elements, hydrogen and helium, relentlessly hot, forever burning. Stars shine by constantly exploding until their fuel is gone, a process undergoing for billions of years and ceasing with a stupendous supernova; a catastrophic act of beauty; the fireworks of nature.

The celestial bodies that make up our universe were once thought to be acts of God, as many unexplained wonders were assumed to be. One did not question the makings of the universe; those who dared to wonder were persecuted.

Now, because of the men and woman who dared to wonder, we have information about what makes a star, why the sun shines, and why the planets rotate as they do. We no longer call our creation the handiwork of a higher power--we call it a mystery; the greatest question of all mankind.

"Metro."

The beauty of the atmosphere envelops me, pulling me into her deep and endless terrain, showing me the colours and sights of her wonderous creation.

"Metro?"

I am entranced by the stars and galaxies.

"Metro."

I am mesmerized by their power.

"Metro..."

I am shaken awake. I open my eyes in panic, forcing myself to fully wake from the dream.

I leap from my bed, taking the heavy metal flashlight from underneath it before turning on my bedside lap. I turn to face the speaker, weapon at the ready.

"Metro," the voice is calm and soft and smooth, not at all threatening. "Metro, it's me."

I drop the flashlight it a clumsy act of shock, cautiously taking a seat on the edge of my bed, all the while staring at the speaker.

"Sommer?"

I question the reality of the situation, rubbing my temples.

"I'm sorry," her voice is clear and crisp and smooth, not unlike a person who speaks often, without a flaw.

"I...I'm sorry," she speaks softly as though not to offend me.

Sommer's voice is perfect. I shutter at the sound of it, such an odd emotion tingling through my senses. A dizziness inhibits my reaction and blurs my vision slightly.

"Metro." She crawls from beneath the blankets to my side. "Metro please say something."

The irony and tense emotions of the situation build within me and I cannot stifle a laugh.

"Why are you laughing?" She stares at me with concern.

I face her, smiling. "The irony of the situation is rather humorous, would you not say?"

She considers this for a few moments before smiling herself.

"Yeah." She flushes, grinning. "I guess it is." She places her head on my shoulder, taking hold of my arm. "You're shaking."

"I believe one has a right to be startled at such an occurrence." She squeezes it. "What an eventful evening this has been."

We sit in silence. The curiosity I feel is overwhelming however, I choose not to pester her. If Sommer believes I am worthy to hear why she has chosen not to speak, she will tell me.

"I only talk to Jagger and Titus...and you." She pulls the hair from her face, tying it back. "Do you wanna hear why?"

"Only if you are willing to share with me," I speak.

She looks to the floor. Slowly, she nods.