• A blanket of death wrapped around my tense, stiff corpse. A coating of white smothered the brown remains of the, previously, thriving vegetation, leaving no sign of activity. Blackened tree-trunks, thinned and gnarled, were placed in random areas of the almost plain-white canvas. A result of the past. A thick, white fog engulfed the darkness and what little life we had, unable to find our way, we rested our weared, and weathered bodies against the crying and crumbling memories that provided us little shelter. We wished for our fire to be hyperactive, yet, it wasn't.

    Two, tiny, sooty logs lapped over each other like a wooden 'X,' lumps of white and see-through, solid wet grew on the two logs, parasites. In the intercepting point, warmth burst out, only slightly, only small. The warmth battled against the invisible enemy, to our misfortune, warmth was at a disadvantage. The battle was allready over, way before it had begun.

    Poof!

    The light and the warmth shrank an crackled in an eruption of smoke, twisting, distorting it's way through the fog, soon melting in with it. No warmth. No life. Nothing to combat the darkness. Before the hope had died, we kept ourselves amused by a dancing, twisting, growling silhouette, a figure in the darkness, blocked from our view by the unknown death. Memories creaked and cried against the strong wind that raced towards our backs, blocked only by the memories. Another brick of memories shifted and pushed itself off the edge, hitting the ever-waiting whit and dissolving, the white absorbing the brick of memories on impact.

    Unable to do anything else, we tried to keep our memory shelter from collapsing and revealing us to the darkness outside. We knew the darkness wanted to get in, it's claws pounding and scraping against the side of our memory shelter. Screeching. Wailing. Never-ending.

    I dug my hand, slowly and warily, into my destroyed, denim jeans' pocket. Unable to root too much or too fast due to the companion to darkness, I did so, slowly. Then I located it, a circular, tube-like object. Wrapping my ice-cube fingers around the tube, I yanked it out. I fumbled with my fingers to locate a button, a switch. I felt the smooth, metallic exterior, freezing on touch. I slid my blue-tinted fingers along it, looking for an odd bump.

    "Aha!"

    I found it, a rough, plastic bump, covered in tiny holes, and a marking, 'on/off.' I press down, slowly, the solid-wet coating my thumb breaking off, and a small beam of yellow life shot out, revealing the golden-brown bricks of memories that are sporting a layer of dust and abandoned cobwebs, you see, flies don't fly in Dystopia. I wave my beam of life around, bricks, white-ground, trees, everything being clear now. I smile as I finally see my companion, the one who kept my sane, he had become a victim to darkness long before I did. His face, blue, destroyed. His moustache, stuck in place for eternity.

    However, if it wasn't his heart beating, then it was the silhouette...

    I washed my life all over the place, furiously. Life bouncing off the bricks off the cold, cold snow, off the trees, long since dead, off the frozen bodies, lacking nutrients and light, off the dancing silhouette in the corner of the memory. A low growl emitted from the silhouette, echoing corner to corner of the memory. Blinking, a furry, grey creature appeared next to me.

    Gulp.

    Many days beforehand, a bright, orange sun sung life from it's body, the life passing quickly through the deep, sapphire blue fortress named 'the sky.' Below the fortress was a brilliantly blue stream, full of life. Emerald green grass danced and swayed to the song sung by the sun and the melody hummed by the wind. Flowers; red, pink and purple, danced and played along with the grass, enjoying the beat created by the many passing feet of the villagers. The villagers, all carrying some form of box, smiled warmly as they trekked down the grey, brown and white mountain trail, to 'Utopia.'

    Animals played and ran through the grass towards the villagers; foxes, rabbits, mice, cats, dogs and wolves trotted together down the path. Eagles, pigeons, swallows, ducks, robins and owls flew overhead, guarding their villagers. Otters, fish and frogs swam by in the near streams. Life was plentiful in 'Utopia.' Every villager, there being twenty or so, stopped as they reached a point. They looked over the valley they would soon call they're new home 'Utopia,' they feared their past home and had looked forward to the 'rise of the sun,' summer time beginning in other words, to move away from 'Dystopia.'

    I knew I should've followed the villagers, the wolf before me is deciding my death, slow or painful. He looks sadistic...