Excerpt:

Eyes as grey and confused as the storm clouds they resembled opened. Pink lips formed words, baby words, words without form. The watchers watched. They made no move towards the boy, but waited until the storm-grey eyes closed, the lips met over white teeth that had barely grown in after loosing their baby predecessors, and he slept again.

“How long do we let him sleep?

“Until he dreams.”

Voices filled his head. They spoke endlessly, asking questions he couldn’t understand, let alone answer. There was no light, just blackness. But then they faded, replaced with the voice of a girl. She was crying, crying so hard it was impossible to distinguish her words. But somehow, he knew what she was saying. She wanted to know if he forgave her. He didn’t know what she needed forgiveness from, but he held her, comforted her. He could feel her hair, smooth and silky, beneath his fingers, feel her hot tears on his neck. Somehow, he was older, for she was shaped like a woman, and he was taller, for she came up to his shoulder when seated. More than anything, he wanted her to stop crying. Deep in his heart, though, he knew telling her everything was alright wouldn’t fix it, wouldn’t stop her tears. It was a lie.