[SilkiyTea]

Name: Anira
Real Age: 12
Age In the Dream: 8
Dream Type: Nightmare
Subject: Why won't you call me Phil?

“Why does Ulfric get Ulfri? Why does Lumin get Lumi? And why don’t I, Philip, get Phil?” It didn’t sound like her friend. It didn’t sound like anything Philip would even ask and he sounded so much older, but it wore his smiling face. Somehow, Anira was younger, younger than the Prince that questioned her. “Why am I not Phil?” He asked again. Anira turned away wordlessly, and strolled towards the door, pushing it open to a brilliant blinding light, her eyes clenching shut.

The sting touched her eye, and they fluttered open. Flax essence carefully pressed against the skin around the corners. A black eye, swollen and bitter. Phil was tending to it, again. The small community had its own doctor. Phil “Bonesaw” Cawl, feared enough to be left alone by local thugs and street-runners, but with a reputation to help those he called ‘Kin’ with injuries. He’s been there for years, and years.

“Third time this week, Ani, and I don’t think you’re gettin’ into fights…” Anira shrugged silently at the words. The walls of the impoverished home which Phil treated as his clinic were dreadfully thin, and she could feel a cold breeze. The swelling around her eye was dying down now, thanks to the flax. “You can talk to me, Ani. Doctor Patient confidentiality, that’s what them wealthy folk back n’the day call-“

“Ya done, Bones.” The pungent stench of booze filled the room. Anira didn’t look up from where she sat. It was late, after all. So very late. “Ali, I’m worried ‘bout ya, and the kid-“ Phil began, but Anira’s mother interrupted. “I asked ya. If ya done, Bones. It ain’t your concern. You ain’t my old man.” Anira still did not look up, still. “You’ve been off your rocker since Mike went n’-“ Again, Phil spoke up. And again, Anira’s mother interrupted.

“If ya know whats good for ya, you’ll shut your fuckin’ mouth ‘fore you say something stupid. Old man. Anira. Go home.” Anira nodded her head as she slid off the tabletop. “Yes, mom.” She stepped outside, when the shouting began. She walked, when the blows started.

She was back home and in bed, staring at the ceiling. When she listened to the dragging sounds. She did not move and did not breath. When she heard a shovel hit dirt. The sky was dark, and her eyes were closed when she heard her mother curse…

“So, why won’t you call me Phil?” Anira’s eyes opened, staring down at her was Phil, but his voice sounded like Philip’s. “Because, Philip is still here… And Phil isn’t.”