*Silas*

Falling. Falling. Falling. Air screamed past my ears, the whistling drowning out all else. I had become one with the storm which I had created. I was born into the madness around me and hated it as much as I loved it.

We are what we surround ourselves with. I had once believed that. Why had I forgotten? Or, more precisely, when?

Images floated around me, the soft hum of a song I once knew. Where was it coming from? To whom did it belong? It sounded so ...