What if everything you had come to accept as fact, turned out to be a lie? When you dreams, and yes, even nightmare seemed far more real than the waking world, how would you decide what was real, and what was a dream? The world I returned to was far from the sheltered place I had once known. Everything had changed. My parents were alive, and I, had never died. The more I tried to cling to my memories, the more it seemed like everything was backwards. Like when I slept, when I got to see him again, was more real, than my parents who had been ripped from my life. I had come to accept the fact that, without a past, I could have no future. In order to live in the present, I would have to seal away my feelings I had developed for those who did not exist, and put my faith, in a man, who was once deemed, my worst enemy. I would have to bury these delusions, in order to save me from myself. Before I could do so, I would have to see my journey out-I would need proof that these places, I had never been to, didn't exist. I would need to die. Only this time, the danger was more evident. The dangerous fact that entailed, I might not be coming back.