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I wonder what she is doing there, but I don't wake her up. I continue what short distance I have
traveled so far.

It is said that in his heart a man plans his course, but it is the Lord who determines his steps. If you
were alive centuries ago you might have met a philosopher who believed that each person is
responsible for giving their own lives meaning and purpose. In a dream connected to the thieves
from New York, I'm at a point where I can't figure out what to do with my life because my partner
has died and the anger I felt has begun to fade away. After some time, I find myself in a third world
country attempting to find peace and help those who cross my path in my search to find fulfillment
in life again, but not the kind of fulfillment that required anger.

Sometimes I'm locked and it's hard to get in without a key. That doesn't stop everyone though,
some people like to force me open by kicking me down. Sometimes I'm not locked, however, and
people just simply walk in.

I used to get annoyed with people knocking on me, but that doesn't happen anymore because no
one lives here now. I also used to hate when people would look right through me to see what's on
the other side.

Here comes the narrator. You probably know this person as the storyteller. Opening the gate.
Climbing the steps. Now the storyteller's hand is on my doorknob, and now I'm open for everyone
to see what's inside. The storyteller walks into the parents' home and now the storyteller's hand is
on the other doorknob and is now closing me and eventually I will say "shut."

Chapter 48:
NAMELESS IDENTITY

Overhead, the street light hangs motionless upon the air, and across the parking lot, inside
apartment 2C, the echo of a distant sob comes willowing across the living room and every thing is
green and submarine.

There is not a single light on in the apartment, and if you go past the living room and open the door
on the left, you would see Lynne sitting down on the floor with her back against the wall. You
would hear her crying but you wouldn't be able to see the blood and the bruises. Eventually she
would get tired, and she would fall asleep.

Sometimes our dreams can turn into nightmares. Plans we saw so clearly become blurry, and for
some of us, the blurriness causes us to forget what the dream originally was. The dead dreams may
stay dead, but some of them might turn into nightmares to drag you down, and if you die before
you wake...

Watching the news I see a national story about several men with influence who were found dead in
their homes. Not too many details as it's an ongoing investigation, but it's nice to know that there
are other cities out there that also suffer from the wrath of mankind. That it's not just ours and it's
not just us.

I turn off the television and now my entire apartment is dark. Many nights I'll find myself sitting in