[SilkiyTea]

Name: Anira
Real Age: 13
Age In The Dream: ???
Dream Type: Uncertain
Subject: Pieces…
 
Anira was surrounded by mirrors, none of them reflected herself. The girl stood still, she couldn’t see any light, she could not see any shadows. It was only her, and the mirrors. Each one held a reflection of someone she knew. From the Dreamwalker, to her Father, Misha and Demios. To Elisha and Tea. To Ulfric, Lumin and Philip. Even her lesser seen friends, Fen, Serena, Gwen…
 
They all looked so peaceful in the mirrors. Sleeping soundly, baring small smiles. Something calm, that kept her breathing light and careful. She didn’t want to wake them up, she never did.
 
A heavy beating filled her ears, emitting from her chest. A dim red glow filling the shadowy surrounding of mirrors. One of the mirrors reflected her, and she could see what it was. A heart-shaped crystal that pulsed in tandem with the beat of her heart. Slow and steady. Anira’s eyes looked towards the other mirrors, those of her sleeping friends.
 
The girl’s hand moved swiftly. A finger pressed against the crystal shaped heart. Then? She would make a firm pinch. A fragment broken off and placed against the mirror. When she did so, her fingers would become translucent for a brief few seconds. A writhing mass of darkness wriggled and writhed like a patch of worms in the spot she chipped off. The person in the mirror had that portion of crystal glowing dimly at their shoulder.
 
And so, she went. Mirror by mirror. Chipping off another piece, and another, and another. Until she got to the last mirror. The last one was one of her first friends, wasn’t it? The one she had met with Elisha. The disheveled red hair, the fake demon horn headband. Anira raised her hand to her chest, where that beating crystal once rested. But when she pinched at it, her fingers met a writhing mass of sticky, foul darkness.
 
A moment was taken to look down at the dark swirling hole. It had overtaken where the crystal beating heart had once been. When Anira looked back up, she saw him again. His face was contorted in rage, his eyes looked animalistic, his features that of a feral tiger backed into a corner. The boy’s arm arced back, only to slam forward.
 
The mirror shattered, the fragments dug into her skin, tore into her flesh, ripped apart her bones, and all she could do?

Was bleed, and vanish.

Much like the last dream, this one ends abruptly, with another sentence beneath it.

I woke to her blood on his hands, because I failed to help him.