He flitted in and out of consciousness. Each time, the world shone a little less brighter through his eyelids. However, the pain lingered through his dreams. His subconscious brought him to the outskirts of the burning town. There stood no place where the flames didn't rise several feet into the air.
The guilt of the destruction his actions wrought upon the town pushed him to walk into the flames, toward the town square. Everywhere he looked, the scared and scornful looks of all the residents drilled deep into his soul. Walking past each one, his shame grew and grew, until he wished with his whole being that death would save him from it.
The world started rocking around the man, so he burst into a run. As the street he was on opened into the city square he knew so well, he expected to find the shallow pool drained of all liquid. As he slowed down and approached the lip carved with all of the names of the past mayors of the city, he was surprised to find that the water stretched infinitely downward.
He spun around to the voice of an elderly, female voice, represented by an unclear specter. "Let the guilt go. Take the plunge and purge yourself of everything holding you back right now."
The man stood dazed, not knowing what to do. The specter chuckled softly and said, "It's alright. I'll give you a hand." Before he could react, the figure pushed him backward into the pool. As the cool water washed over him, he made the transition from unconscious to conscious again. This time, he found himself sitting up in darkness, breathing heavy and sweating.
"Shhh shhh shhh, relax," the voice from his dream whispered. "It's not yet your time to die."
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