Knock
Knock
Knock
   
Alfred groaned quietly, rolling off of the couch. He fell to the ground with a loud thud. His head turned to face the clock on the cable box.
   
10:32 the digital white letters read. He gripped the arm of the couch, stumbling slightly as he stood. Using the black screen of the television as a mirror, he fixed his hair. His hand searched the coffee table for his black-framed glasses, eventually finding the eyewear. His thumb and index finger pinched the hinged area.
   
Knock
Knock
Knock
   
"Yeah, yeah," the blond grumbled. "I'm coming, quit the knocking."
   
He dragged his feet as he walked to the door, his posture very poor as he had his back hunched. His fingers curled around the doorknob, twisting the door open. Blinking to adjust his eyes to the sudden light. When his eyes finally adjusted, no one was there. He looked left, then right. Nothing to be found. Then, he looked down, and there sat a box. Stamped in bright red ink read the words that later, Alfred will wish he had obeyed.
   
DO NOT OPEN!
   
Alfred couldn't even pretend he didn't read the words, they stuck out like a sore thumb against the brown cardboard. Yet, Alfred's curiosity got the better of him. He crouched down, picking the box up in one arm. He was surprised, with the size of the box, he assumed it would be heavy, yet it was light as a feather. He shook the box, yet he heard nothing. It was as if there was nothing in the box, and that's what Alfred thought. Yet he had to make sure. He stepped back inside, holding the box under one arm. He carried the box over the the couch he had slept on, setting the package on the coffee table. He tried to open the box, pouting at the packaging tape. So, like any dorky guy who was too lazy to go get a knife from the kitchen, he bit the box. Though that method didn't seem awfully effective either, so her surrendered and strolled into the kitchen, coming back with a vegetable knife. He cut the tape where it connected the flaps of the box. Alfred pulled the flaps of the box to the sides, nothing was in the box. Alfred just stood there for a few seconds, upset. Then, he gasped. His right hand flew to his chest, gripping the skin over his heart as if he had a heart attack. He felt like he was standing on the sun with how warm it had gotten all of a sudden. Then, he collapsed to his knees, wheezing uncontrollably.
   
"H-Help!" he managed to scream between wheezes. Though he knew it was pointless, his sister was on a trip and wouldn't be back for a week, plus he wasn't expecting company. So, who was there to save him? Besides, even if there was, what could they do? Alfred himself didn't know what the devil was going in, unless-
   
Alfred vomited. Yet it wasn't your typical regurgitated food, for the liquid was a deep color. Not only that, but the texture was hard to stare at without throwing up again. It was a thick, crimson liquid.

It was blood.

That is all Alfred recalled before the darkness consumed him and he gave into the slumber. Yet, this was not the eternal end for nineteen year old, even though at the time, he thought it was.

Darkness was everywhere when he awoke again. Black went as far as his sight could go, and probably even further. Then, a little orb of  green light appeared, and Alfred couldn't help but stare in awe. It's light flickered, and a small joyful laugh came from the blond. For it reminded him of the fireflies he and his sister used to chase around as children. They'd always sneak out of their bedroom window and chase lightning bugs around in the backyard while their parents were sleeping.

Alfred's mouth gaped open when more more of these little orbs popped up from the ground. Yet, they weren't all green. They were all sorts of colors; red, orange, and yellow blended together, rivaling the beauty of a rising sun. Then, blue, indigo, and violet vivantally brightened the darkness. Not to mention the green. Oh, the wonderful green. It truly ranged in shades and tints of the color, for some held the same vibrant as the lightning bug. Others were a deep emerald, the same color of his father's eyes. The same eyes that had watched over him for years. The deep, calming color of emerald green that would give Alfred a soft, gentle look at his father's arms held him, comforting him.

The colors turned into a picture. A picture that brought more joyful memories to Alfred. For it was an old family photo, Alex (Alfred's sister) stood between himself and their brother, Matthew. Their parents stood on either side of them, then there was their Uncle Allie, who had his arm swung around their father's shoulders, since he loved annoying his little brother.

The scene shifted, this time a moving picture. There was no sound, but Alfred knew this moment in time. He remembered it by the facial expressions, the glaring, the hand movement, and the eyes, the hate the eyes held.

It was the day he left home. The day he left the happiness.

His father had begged him to stay, but he had refused. Eventually, his father's pleads turned into demands, which pushed Alfred further. The words he said that day, they still echo in his mind, as they will till his last breath.
"You are not my father anymore!"
Though this was not an echo, sound actually came from the scene before him. He felt as though a bullet struck him threw the heart.

Then, he awoke from the nightmare.