The outside world is such an amazing place. People walked by me, oblivious to everything around them, going through their daily lives without taking a look around them. All they saw was the path ahead of them, and they lived outside of the moment, their minds focused on whatever task was ahead of them. Some had families. Some lived alone. Some were rich. Some were poor. Yet none lived for the moment. None seized the day. None saw the grasp of death inching toward them at each moment, waiting to take them when they are unprepared.

        It was warm, and the sun-rays beamed from the sky, shining through the trees and landing on the ground around me. A gust of light wind, northerly and brisk, kissed me in the face. The smell of ancient dirt wafted into my nose, with a hint of flowers and trees. It seemed like life was everywhere, and it reminded me of Janice. Her green eyes, her red hair, her beautiful laugh, her sparkling teeth...

        —"Anger rolled through molten, a storm I was. The electricity empowered me, And I was without some disastrous flaws. "No man was I," I thought, "A god I be!" No pain I felt for fair anger protect. Each hit, each blow, just added strength to me. To those I fought could try, but they're just wrecked. The roots I had were strong like a peach tree. Yet, he must be ephemeral sinew. And even he feel lonely to embrace. Anger, who be of none, Love be in you. Astray, Love's not, Anger to be disgrace. Final'ty, Love will permanently be. Anger should learn from Love, that's guarantee. What do you think?" I asked.

        "Interesting. What is it about?" a girl asked me.

        "You... you can't tell?" I asked.

        "I'm not really into poetry. Do you play any sports?" the girl asked.

        "Does competitive writing count?" I asked. The girl scoffed, rolled her eyes, and walked away. I watched her walk off, and hung my head.

        "It's about a storm within. The power anger has over a person. How it empowered the author, and made him feel power. When he was angry, he felt no physical pain. All those who tried to fight him, or those he pushed away, gave him more strength, and he became stubborn. His anger never lasted long though. When his power was gone, he felt alone. Anger brought nothing, but Love was within him deep inside. Love didn't lead him astray like his anger did. Love will always be permanent, and Anger needs to learn from the real power of Love," a voice said, coming up to me. I looked up, and there stood a young redhead girl.

        "Wonderful! You understood my sonnet!" I exclaimed.

        "You like Shakespeare? A little old and confusing for me. I'm more of a Robert Frost person," the girl said, sitting beside me.

        "Once you get past the weird language, his stories are quite interesting. I had to write that for my English class. The teacher wanted poetry, so I decided to go above and beyond," I said.

        "Why did you read it to Maria?" she asked me.

        "I was trying to impress her," I said bashfully.

        "Maria likes guys with power and confidence. You don't ask her for a date, you demand it," she said.

        "Thanks for the tip!" I said.

        "Well you would be clueless without it," she said, and gave me a playful shove.

        —I jolted my eyes open. The world around me came back into focus, and I could see that I had fallen to the ground. I sat up, and looked at my surroundings. I was in the same place that I had been in before, but now I recognized it. That tree, a few yards from me, I was just sitting there. And that building, I had gone to school there! I knew Maria! Why do I remember that name... wasn't that one of the names I told the doctor? I tried to think back to my sessions in the therapy room, but nothing came to mind.

        Imagine you are working on a project, or you are about to go somewhere. At first you think you have everything ready, but then you remember that you need to bring one more item, and that one item is extremely important to your project or your trip. It is of utmost importance that you find this item, because you have that feeling deep down that if you don't have it, something devastating is going to happen. You look and look and look for this item, but to no avail.

         Now you have to leave for your trip, or you are about to present your project. You know you can't prevent the trip from happening, nor present your project any later, so you move on, fingers crossed. Everyone else around you is enjoying themselves, unburdened, but your mind keeps returning to that missing item, and the knot in your stomach grows bigger and bigger. You KNOW that the thing was important. You also know that by the time you figure it out, it will be too late, the damage will be done, and you will hate yourself for forgetting.

         That is how I felt in that moment, so close to answers, yet so far from the truth. My brain was a cave, and my thoughts were screaming, screaming for answers, screaming for an understanding. Only an echo rebounded back, and then an echo of that echo, and an echo of THAT echo, and so on and so forth. Sometimes a different voice than my own would come back, but it was faint and garbled, and it provided more questions than answers.

        I looked around for a sign that could tell me the name of this place. A few yards off I found one, and it read: Pine Hills Park. There were a few people at the park, some reading books, and others playing games. One person walked up to me with some sort of furry animal on a rope.

        "Are you lost?" the person asked me. They looked familiar. Almost like the red head in my vision.

         "...Yes. I don't know where to go," I said.

        "Oh don't worry. You'll be fine. Whatever you are feeling, whether it is unsure, confused, or just plain lost, it is a part of your path. Don't avoid it. Your feelings are showing you something, and you must use it. Take a deep breath. You will be ok. Even if you don't feel okay all the time," the person said to me.

        I looked the woman in the eyes. She had strong gray eyes. Her eyes held the power of storms, and yet, the power of warmth and compassion. Her eyes have seen the harshest of night, and the newest of days. Bland, desolate eyes. Crisp, cold, forlorn eyes. Joyous, sizzling, warm eyes. Patient, forgiving eyes.

        "Who are you?" I asked. I had met this woman before in a different time. She looked very different now.

        "I hold the face of the person you most respect, yet least expect. You determine who that is," the woman said.

        "Can I pet your...?" I started to ask.

        "My dog? Indeed. May he bring you some joy, and lead you to your next journey," the woman said, handing me the rope, and walking off.

        "This isn't my dog! How will I get it back to you?!" I asked with confusion.

        "Once he gets you to where you need to go, he will come back to me," the woman stated without looking back. I watched her walk away, and it seemed like she slowly disappeared into nothing the further she walked. I turned to the dog. The animal sat patiently at my side, looking at me with its head tilted to the side. The dog seemed like a happy animal, with its bright golden coat of fur, and it's kind eyes.

        "Uhh... hello! Take me... wherever I'm supposed to go..." I mumbled, tugging on the rope a bit. The dog jumped up and put its upper paws on my chest and licked my face. I laughed and patted the dog on the head. It was a wonderful experience, and like the woman said, it did bring me some joy. Once the dog saw me laughing and smiling, it stopped, and started pulling me on the leash.

        I followed it, and we walked for a while. It started to run, and I ran with it. We went past trees after trees, a small pond, until we went into some deep grass. The dog sniffed around, and I watched it. It stopped, and pawed at the ground. It had a strange look on its face. I came closer to investigate. It started to poop on the ground, and I looked away.

        "Well that's great. I'm stuck with a strange dog that a crazy woman gave me. A dog that was supposed to lead me on my path, and all it led me to was a field to poop in! How am I supposed to find myself?" I cried, dropping the rope. The dog finished its business, picked up the rope in its mouth, and sat, looking as if it were offering the rope back to me. I grabbed it, and it tugged me into a different direction.

        He pulled me across a road and up to the front of a building. The building was small and square, and had four large pillars at the entrance. In the middle was a sign that read: GRAVES MAUSOLEUM. I stepped up to the building, and pulled open the door. The inside was one fairly large room, and it was dimly lit. I looked around, and saw that the only light coming in was from the door and a small circular glass window in the middle of the roof. The walls were structured like large rectangles, each one with a name. The light from the window on the roof pointed to one singular rectangle that read: HERE LIES HUDSON GRAVES JR.