Free Falling Sky by James Patrick Riser

this whole thing seems blurry,” he said finally. “I don’t know if destroying anything would really help the world. I’m not sure if the dreams mean anything, as real as they seem. Sometimes I doubt my own sanity and I don’t know how useful I’ll be to you. I just hope that this isn’t a battle of pride, or whose ideal is better. I just want to do the right thing.”
    â€œWho do you think -” Katsuni started, but Wasley stopped her with an upraised hand.
    â€œDo you want to go home?” Wasley asked calmly. “To think about it?”
    Ian put his hands on the table, pushed himself away from it and stood up. “Yes, take me home.”
    â€œOkay, we’ll wait a few hours,” Katsuni said and walked out of the room.

Chapter Fifteen
    The car stopped across the street from Ian’s home. He opened the door, stepped out and nodded at Wasley. Prophet had decided to stay behind with Katsuni and let Wasley take the car.
    â€œWe’ll be in contact,” Wasley said, and then drove off.
    Ian wore a dark blue, pullover sweater Prophet had let him borrow, with the hood drawn up over his head. He didn’t want to look like himself in case Ellis happened to be nearby, but didn’t know how well the sweater worked in that aspect. I sure don’t feel like myself, he thought. He patted the pockets of his jeans and remembered he still didn’t have the keys.
    He crossed the street and stepped in between a group of people to reach his doorstep. Usually, the thought of being this close to other people would make his skin break out in gooseflesh, but he walked in a hazy, numbing fog and hardly noticed the masses. When he reached the door, he paused to look at the golden knob and instead of knocking he reached out and turned it. A sharp click issued from the door and it swung open. Ian furrowed his brow and studied the darkness beyond. Cool air rushed from the open portal and licked his face. Quickly, he stole glances to his sides and then entered. The pit of his stomach tightened and a light numbness lingered at the tips of his fingers. Something’s wrong with the auto lock, Ian thought.
    Sensing his presence, the house’s lights flickered on to shed subdued light on a living room in complete disarray. The sofa had been turned over onto its back, and the coffee table had been splintered into three pieces. Spider web cracks spread out from a hole in the television screen. Ian walked over a floor strewn with crumpled papers and over turned drawers that had been pulled from the desk, and then tossed haphazardly to the ground. When he entered the kitchen, his feet crunched over cereal and almost slipped on a fork. The table had been completely turned over so its legs jutted into the air.
    Ian kicked the small obstacles out of his way, firmly grasped one of the legs and pulled the table upright. As he slid the hood off of his head, his vision became blurred. Tears created thin trails of heat down his face. The house’s chill cut through his clothes and his entire body; it washed away the world around him and the table for a moment. His reflection, distorted by the falling tears, looked up at him.
    â€œWhy?” Ian mumbled at first, and then cleared his throat. “What happened? All I did was have a nightmare, why is this happening?” Ian screamed at the top of his lungs. He didn’t remember if he’d closed front door or not, but didn’t care if anyone on the sidewalk heard him.
    Sometimes, his reflection replied, things are forced on us. They throw our lives out of order, and the lives of the people close to us. But we have the power to set things right.
    Ian slammed his hands down on the table shouting, “How do you know? Who are you? How do I even know you’re real?” His voice trembled as an uncomfortable warmth rushed up from his stomach and poured into his entire body. He wiped tears mixed with sweat away from his eyes;