I opened the stone door, to the other world; the one I thought could only be a delusion. Paradise. My breathe caught in my throat. It was… real. All those years of fighting, grey clouds, bullets. Watching my father die. Now I was here, in a field of endless green.
I held a flower in my hand. Bright and red and beautiful. It withered and turned to dust. I scattered its ashes. It turned the grass brown. I smiled. There were no people here; no houses, no cities. Not the wars. The angry crowds.My father; the mob dragged him away. Now there was nothing but singing birds.No one else here. I walked back out the stone door. Let Paradise be.