Prologue~

It was a seemingly unsuspecting night in West Wales. Everyone across the small town of Laugharne was sleeping, and no one seemed to notice that a girl was ripped from her bed. Before she could scream, a cold hand gripped around her mouth, and she was swept away. She struggled desperately, beginning to cry. The cold night air whipped in her face, painful and stinging. As she grasped and clawed and kicked, she only felt her captor moving faster and faster towards what was sure to be impending doom. When finally, she felt her captor slow to almost a stop. She gasped for air, being flung from his/her arms. As she stared up at the face above her, shrouded in darkness, her tears suddenly stopped. It was as if the world had stilled, not even a bird could be heard in the trees above. She sat, staring up at the strange person with only the faint sound of wind to accompany them. The stranger then bent down, gently caressing the child's cheek. As a single, final tear made its way slowly down her cheek, she whispered a silent plea. However, the plea fell on deaf ears, and the figure slashed her throat in a quick and simple, yet effective motion. The girl released a blood-curdling scream before falling limp to the ground. Her captor checked her pulse to be sure the girl was dead. Only when it was made painstakingly clear that she was gone, did the shadowy figure get up to trudge away into the woods.

Five Years Later~

Thomas Agapito jolted awake, feeling cold, sticky sweat all over his body. Another nightmare, he decided in his head. His baggy, tired complexion paired with his lidded eyes and messy hair showed everyone that he had no exact longing to be there as he headed downstairs to the mess hall for breakfast. He was greeted by his best friend who was always overly joyful for the morning, Charlie Chabuk. Charlie is not to be confused for a boy. Although she may be a tom-boy, she is certainly not a boy.

"So, how did you sleep?" she asked as he sat down, giving him a signature grin full of cereal milk.

"Eugh," He commented, scooching down the table slightly farther away from her, and giving her a look of disgust. "But, if you must know, I slept... average.." He was trying to avoid the discussion of his nightmares. Charlie had prepared cereal for him, and he moved the spoon around in it thoughtfully. As he looked down at his uneaten food, Charlie's smile slowly faded, and she placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Another nightmare?" she asked, concern flooding her expression.

He only nodded in response, not willing to look in her eyes and see the concern that he didn't deserve. He took a bite of his cereal to please her.

"So, how did you sleep?" He asked.

And just like that, the conversation had completely changed. Charlie went on and on about this dream she had about some boy, and Thomas finished his cereal as slowly as possible, trying not to think of the nightmare.

Towards the middle of the day was when they had lessons. Lessons were taught by one of Thomas's favorite people, Mr. Reynald. He was more of a father figure than Thomas had ever had, and he had never had one. As Thomas sat down, he heard laughter from behind him. He braced himself, and sure enough not long after he sat down, a balled-up piece of paper hit him painfully on the back of his head. He didn't bother to open it because he knew it was probably some taunt, instead he flinched as it hit him and he let it roll to the ground, leaving it there. As he stepped in, Mr. Reynald and Thomas exchanged smiles before the lesson began.

"Today, class, we are going to be talking about time. Can anyone tell me what time is? What does it mean?" Mr. Reynald began.

Thomas fidgeted, wanting to answer, but not quite sure if he knew.

"The truth is," Mr. Reynald continued when no one raised their hand, "that time is something purely unexplainable. Our attempt to explain time came with years, dates, clocks, minutes, hours, days, weeks, but what is time beyond our perception of it? That is your assignment for this week. I want you to research as much as possible about time. Anything you can find, then explain to me in essay format, the answer to the question: What is time?" The class groaned at the mention of an essay. "This will be presented in front of the class, so be prepared on Monday," Mr. Reynald warned as he passed out directions for the assignment to the class.

The rest of class, the students worked on their assignment, but still, Thomas was stuck. He never did understand time, in any way. It was hard for him, especially considering his dyslexia. Only Charlie and Mr. Reynald knew about it. When he was young, maybe six or seven, he came home with a failing report card and his mother had slapped him hard across the face, calling him useless, worthless, stupid. Then she had cried about it and kissed him on the forehead. The next day, he ended up here, at the orphanage, with his mother promising her return. Here, where they had diagnosed him with dyslexia, and "here" was where he had been his whole life. He was 15. She never came back. She never kept her promise. He gripped his pencil so hard he thought it might break, until finally Mr. Reynald said that it was break time, so Thomas collected his books and rushed out of the classroom to find some shade on a bench. There, he escaped into the world of fantastical literature. Lost in tales of dragons, gold, elves, and mermaids. You wouldn't think that a dyslexic kid would enjoy reading so much, but Thomas never wanted his condition to define him. He had worked so hard to read, and he would make the most of it. That is, until he heard a familiar nauseating voice.

"Hey idiot, how's the picture book?" Max Howard sneered.

Max Howard was so much more than Thomas's tormentor. He had ruined his life in more ways than one with no guilt, no shame, no regret. Thomas stiffened at the sound of additional laughter accompanying Max. This time wasn't going to be one-on-one.

"What's wrong, are you mute now too?" he smirked. "Get him." He muttered in a low voice to the cronies at his shoulders.

Thomas's heartbeat sped up and his breath quickened. He barely had time to even think about running when two strong pairs of arms lifted him from the bench and held him fast. His attempt at struggling failed quickly and he flinched as Max aggressively kicked the book he was reading, away from where he was suspended in the air.

"Now that you can't run, freak. I want to ask you a few questions," Max sneered again, moving slowly towards the struggling boy. "How is that friend of yours doing?"

Charlie? What was he talking about? Thomas wondered. This was not a great time for Max to be asking questions with Thomas at his mercy.

"Why?" Thomas managed to croak out.

"Don't question me, idiot." Max lowered his voice moving closer to Thomas. Thomas shut his eyes tightly as Max moved closer, bracing himself for a punch or a slap. "If you must know, I want a date with this friend of yours, and you're going to get me one."

Thomas was so dumbstruck, he forgot who he was speaking to.

"What? No! I can't do tha-" But before he could finish, he felt a hard punch in his gut. He coughed up blood as he hung there, trying to double over with pain, but he couldn't. Max was up close to his face before he could even think.

"Why?" Max snarled.

"She doesn't like you," Thomas panted, trying to get a grip of himself. Just as he began to breathe a slight bit easier, a harder blow was delivered.

"You don't know anything!" Max said forcefully. "You are so useless, I don't even know why I bothered to ask, you'll probably screw that up to. No wonder your worthless addict mother left you here." Thomas flinched at the words, but he couldn't defend himself. He hung limp between the two cronies who chuckled, but all Thomas could hear was muffled laughter and more demands from Max. His mind spun. his vision blurred. His head hung towards the floor. He was sure more blows were being registered, but he could barely feel it as he drifted out of consciousness.

Waking up, he realized he was in Charlie's arms as she rushed him to the infirmary.

"Charlie..." He mumbled, trying to tell her what happened. He noticed the tears steadily streaming down her face. "You okay?" He asked, but his voice sounded so distorted.

Charlie smiled through her tears. "Still worried about me, are you?" She said. "Just shut up and let me do this for you." she said, pumping her legs faster.

When they reached the infirmary, Mr. Reynald was there. He gave Thomas a curt nod. As a nurse tended to him, Mr. Reynald instructed Charlie to leave. With a small, concerned glance at her best friend and a bit of protest, Charlie left, biting her lip and rubbing her arms.

"What happened?" Mr. Reynald finally asked.

"What does it look like?" Thomas replied, frustrated with himself. Angry tears sprouted at the corners of his eyes, but he refused to allow them to fall.

"Listen Thomas because I will only say this once," Mr. Reynald said, suddenly serious. "There are some people in this life who don't understand the pact of living, if that makes any sense. Max and his goons are those people, but you are not. Make sure you understand what life means. What it means to have the privilege of living." With that, Mr. Reynald tipped his hat to the nurse on the way out, and Thomas was left alone with his thoughts.

He didn't understand what Mr. Reynald meant. As much as he thought about it, he couldn't understand why it was so important that Mr. Reynald gave him that message.

Later that night, his frustration finally burst and when he was sure nobody would notice, he burst into tears. Why him? Why did he deserve this? The nurse had left, and this wing of the hospital was never visited, so he let it all out, screaming and wailing, pushing out the pain, the hurt, the anger. Through his cries, he heard a voice. A beautiful voice, almost like a siren. The voice sang beautifully like a melody. He climbed out of bed, looking around before following the voice. Finally, he reached the greenhouse. Right outside the greenhouse was a beautiful fountain. A girl sat there now. Her complexion was shimmery. Her skin was almost transparent, but she gave off this glow that entranced him. She was dressed in shabby clothes, exactly like the orphanage, and as she sang, she ran her silvery, shining, dainty hand through the crystal-like water of the fountain. The moonlight seemed to reflect through both the fountain and the girl and Thomas just stared. His heart was on mars, fully engrossed in her magical song.

"It's rude to stare, you know?" The girl spoke, even her voice seemed to tinkle like soft bells as she laughed.

"You're very good," Thomas remarked, startled to find her moving towards him. After staring for a while, the girl spoke again.

"What's your name?" She asked.

"Thomas, um Thomas Agapito." He sputtered. Then he added, "What's yours?"

"Mine? Oh, Amanda. I don't know my last name." She got up and began tracing the leaves of the plants with her fingers as she walked gracefully. "I remember this place, you know? This was my favorite place here. Do you remember me?" She asked. "You would have been 10, if I remember correctly when I disappeared."

Thomas's mouth fell open and he took a step back.

"You-you're the girl who disappeared and then her body was found in the woods." Amanda did nothing but nod. "But.. But you're my age." Thomas spoke, dumbfounded.

"Thomas," she said, giving him a knowing look and trying to make him understand.

"You.... Are you dead?" He asked. Again, she responded with nothing but a mere nod. He shifted uncomfortably. "What's it like?" he finally asked softly.

"It's not something you want, that's for sure," She replied, turning her icy blue eyes on him. "You've seen me before, haven't you?"

Thomas shuffled his feet around in the dirt. He had seen her. He loved her. He had never seen her like this before. She appeared human in his dreams. The one who saved him from his nightmares. The girl he never thought he'd ever see again. "Yes." He said quietly.

"I will wait for you," she said softly, almost a whisper. Before he could ask what she meant, he heard the nurse calling for him and when he turned back, she was gone.

He continued meeting her. Every night. They danced, they sang, they laughed. Thomas had never felt this way with anyone before. He had never believed in love at first sight, but all of it was seeming very real now. It was the seventh night that they met when things changed.

"I need you to know something, Thomas." Amanda said, looking deep into his eyes. "I know you love me. I love you too, but it's more complicated than that." Thomas's heart fluttered, leaping with excitement and joy.

"Why? It doesn't have to be complicated. Even if it does, it's love, its supposed to be! I would die for you!" He smiled, breathlessly, grabbing her hands and pulling her close to him. She gave him a sad smile and gently pushed him away.

"I'm not like you." she said, taking a seat on the edge of the fountain, and looking up at the moon. "My heart is like a little bird," she said whimsically, the sad smile returning. "With its wings tied behind its back." She scoffed at that last part, angry at the way life had already planned how far she could go, but it wasn't life. Why was death so much more stringent? Thomas was confused. He thought with death, you were free, but.... she wasn't.

"Listen, Amanda I don't-" but before he could finish, a shadowy figure intervened. Thomas's eyes widened, but before it could grab Amanda's ankles, he grabbed her and pushed her behind him. The creature slashed his face, leaving a scar. He touched his cheek, feeling blood, but as he breathed heavily, watching it escape into the night, that was the last of his worries. "Amanda, what was that?" he asked, trying to keep his voice level as he turned to her.

"I.... I don't know." She said, just as shocked as she clutched his arm tightly. "It's not from your world, Thomas." She murmured; her voice almost carried away in the wind.

Thomas kneeled in the grass, still holding onto Amanda, and they both just sat there, lost in their two worlds.

Not long after that night, things began to change. Thomas had more and more nightmares and would see these things in broad daylight, but Charlie would insist that they weren't there. One night, he chased the figure down the hallways of the orphanage. When he couldn't run anymore, he just screamed.

"What are you?!" before breaking down in a frustrated, exhausted pile on the floor. Charlie found him there in the morning.

The bullying didn't stop either, it only got worse. He had to have Charlie around him all the time because Max wouldn't dare mess with him when she was around. One day, the two of them were having lunch outside. They were sitting underneath Thomas's favorite tree. He didn't know what type of tree it was because it had never bloomed. He didn't even know why it was his favorite. He felt such a connection to it, almost in a motherly way. It might seem weird to think of a tree as motherly, but to Thomas it wasn't strange at all. It folded its branches over the two of them, shading them from the sun. Then, Charlie spoke.

"Thomas, I'm worried about you. You've been really different since you had to spend the night in the hospital because of Max. You can talk to me, you know? I'm always here for you." She said meaningfully, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. He just nodded. "You only get one life. Don't let them ruin it for you. Don't let them take away your dreams. Dream big. As big as you want because you won't have another chance to live." With that, she got up to throw the trash from her sandwich away.

Thomas wondered why so many people were starting to take an interest in caring about his life just recently. He took Charlie's advice, and as the shadowy creature bounded through his peripheral vision, he ignored it, chewing on his lunch slowly and savoring the feeling of the sun on his skin.

That night, as he walked down to the greenhouse fountain, he didn't hear Amanda's voice. He didn't hear anything. When he finally got there, he saw nothing but the gentle swaying of leaves in the breeze.

"Amanda?" He called out, worried. His heart stopped and his face drained of all color as he heard an agonizing scream from just around the corner towards the woods.

As much as he wanted to turn around and run, he pushed his legs to move faster, sprinting around the side to see two dreadfully tall and lanky figures dragging Amanda away. He couldn't see either of their faces. They seemed almost as just shadows. Their arms and legs were spindly and long like a spider's and their torsos stretched just as much, making them extremely tall and terrifying. Still, Thomas rushed forward, desperate not to lose Amanda as he had lost everyone else. His heart pounded as he raced to catch up, cold sweat dripping down his neck.

Finally, the figures stopped, suspending Amanda between them over a raging river.

"Let her go." Thomas said dangerously, then louder, "LET HER GO!" He squeezed his eyes shut as he yelled. Still, the figures did not move.

He rushed at one of them, but it caught him by the arm before he could punch, and he looked up to find nothing but the old, yellowed face of a clock. He caught his breath as he stared, angry tears stemmed. He looked towards the other one, the withered look of a skull. He pulled back from the creature in disgust and betrayal. His mouth fell open slightly as a hundred emotions flooded him at the same time.

"No. Don't touch me." He spoke, his voice shaking with emotion as he stared into the face of time. The thing that took everything away from him. "I hate you! I hate you! You took my life away! I just want my life back!" He screamed, tears streaming down his face. Time simply stared back at him, tilting its head slightly to the side, as if confused.

"You have your life, Thomas, I promise you do," Amanda finally spoke, giving him a teary smile. "You still have your life. Please, make sure you live it for me." She whispered.

"Amanda, no, please," Just as he tried to reach her, she closed her eyes and Death and Time let her go. She fell, cascading into the crashing current below. The water seemed to shine that night.

As Thomas kneeled, crying harder than he ever had before, Time and Death stared down at him. Finally, their heads lifted, looking past Thomas to another figure, a figure that almost looked golden. A figure that Thomas couldn't see. The shining figure walked up and placed a hand on Thomas's shoulder. A hand that Thomas could not see or feel. Then, Time and Death left, like ashes carried away in the wind. Thomas could never know when he would see them again.

The next day, Thomas had to present his paper on Time. More than anything, Thomas had learned that he couldn't fight time, he couldn't ignore time, but he could live with time. He took a deep breath as he stepped to the front of the class.

"For this paper, we were all asked to answer the question: What is time? However, that is impossible." Thomas began. "All my life, I've struggled. I blamed time. I thought it had taken everything away from me. I thought it had taken my life away from me. I blamed time for not bringing my mom back, for not giving me the time I needed but never had, back." He took another deep breath. "But, I didn't lose my life. If I had, I wouldn't be standing here right now. Time didn't take my life, it just made it harder to live, but that's just how things work. When something gets too easy, you have to make it harder, until there are no more levels to reach. Then, you are at the peak of your existence. Every downfall, allowing you to grow until you can't anymore. That is life. My life is far from over. The truth is, time is a struggle, an endless loop. Something that causes pain, freedom, relief, anger, joy. Something that will never be understood," He looked out the window, tearing up at the sight of his favorite tree, now blooming with soft and bright Cherry Blossoms. "But something that doesn't have to be."