"Brae," a faint voice whispers into my ear, causing my eyes to gradually flutter open, somewhat squinting at the bright sun beaming at me. A blurry figure instantly pops out, towering over me as it covers the light passing through, and all I could see now is the stranger coming down closer to my face.

"Wh-What are you—" I start, but I was quickly interrupted by another voice. This time, it was quite familiar. Everything sounds groggy to me for some reason. "Isn't it too bright?"

The figure soon vanished in my very eyes; the sun magically replaced by a moon. I slowly sit up, my hands on the dirty ground, supporting my weight. At this point, everything was still a blur to me like my eyes seems like they were covered with some sort of clear plastic. I lift my arm up and vigorously rubbed my eyes, trying to clear my vision. Once more, I gaze in front of me as I blink a few times to finally foresee the two individuals surrounding my fragile state. As soon as my eyes landed on the guy with a mop of curls on his head, I immediately recognised him.

"Harry?"

A mischievous smirk grows upon his visage as he oddly walks away in the other direction, leaving me baffled as to where he was off to. I swivel my head to the other side and that's when I almost choked on my own breath.

The very familiar figure whom I truly longed to see and feel is coming his way towards me. My body was about to convulse in front of him and I'm trying my best to keep my composure. Is this real? Is this a dream? How? Why? What happened? What's going on? Several questions bombard my mind. I muster the strength to ignore them as my dad kneels in front of me with a genuine smile creeping on his face which was perfectly free from bruises, cuts, and blood not like the last time I saw him.

"Da-Dad? Ho-How?" And that's when I lost it. Tears were flowing down my cheeks as I did not waste time and embraced him ever so tightly.

"Death," he mumbles softly. "Nothing can happen more beautiful than death."

"What . . . " I trail in confusion, my arms still wrapped around him. I refuse to let go. I'm afraid I'd lose him again. I'm not letting that happen. I'm not losing him anymore.

"We're dead."

"Our minds are dead," Harry cuts in as I see him standing behind my father.

"Mine is dead," he continues, pointing at his head. "His is dead." He points at my father, and I immediately pull apart from the embrace, my face written in pure horror as my dad nods in agreement.

"And now yours is dead, Brae."