In the dream I was on the island.
It was raining, not water but blood. Thick drops of scarlet liquid rained on everything around the North Brother Island. I was standing over the edge of the land, looking over the water, unbothered by red fluid.
“Kaylene,” a familiar voice called.
I turned around and saw Michael. He was in his full form. His wide, white wings were splayed and unfolded behind him. His hair was full golden and not just streaked, his eyes blazing a gilded flame. In his hand was a sword, wide and silver. He looked just like how I remembered him, except that he was covered in blood. The feathers of his white wings were wet and dripping with scarlet. “Michael, what is happening?” I asked.
The cold expression in his face didn’t change. “You did this,” he said.
“What are you
