The Fallen Prince

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What is real? Is it only those things the eyes can see, or is it more?

The wind whispers all around us, invisible but real.

Emotions, gravity, oxygen, God—these are intangibles, unseen, but felt. Real because we believe in the daily evidence of their existence that surrounds us. But what if what you believe is so unorthodox you find yourself pulling away from the evidence?

What do you do when an ancient power rumbles within you…and you deny its release?

Cool air whispers against my bedroom window, seeping through the thin stretch of cheap glass to chill my skin. It’s been nearly a month since I was raised from the dead. I’m no zombie, but I don’t feel…right. I see the expanse of lawn and the back fence outside. I hear the wind slip through the woods beyond, and the gentle baaing of sheep. When Mom dropped me off at my grandparents’ sheep ranch in the fastest kiss-off of all time, I felt unloved. Abandoned.

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