On the shore of some lake rested a single great property, a large home overlooking the ebbs of water, several rows of stone walls separating it from the land. Each row of chiseled stone sectioned off a deeper part of the lake, yet the walls were each only a foot apart. On the misty land side was a great hill and an uninterrupted growth of grass all across.

A boy and a girl had been left to play in this garden as the parents celebrated inside the manor, lavishing over some accomplishment or another. The boy had short buzz cut orange hair and rather flat beady eyes, with a placid look on his face and a green dress sweater. The girl had long brown hair and a blue dress. They were both around the age of seven and were running around just outside the stone wall, playing together and sharing their laughter with the rest of that garden.

A butterfly flapped by and the girl had a sudden inspiration. “Look, look!” The girl cheered as she placed both hands on top of the stone wall and pointed her feet into the side, hoisting herself on top of it. As she stood at the very top of this wall she began flapping her wings wildly. “Look, guess what I am!”

The boy continued shining his half-on smile, his emotions seemingly not fluctuating. He just stood there planted in the ground and without hesitation uttered, “Wow, are you a fluttershy?”

The girl immediately stopped flapping her wings and hopped back down to the grassy hill side, giving a look of concern to the boy with a mix of disgust hinted by her raised eyebrows. She began speaking slowly to him to help him understand, “Nooo, I’m a butterfly.”

The boy just stood there with that unwavering half-smile, seemingly no thought flowing through that head of his, yet somehow he was able to drop an immediate response to this with, “Well a fluttershy is like a butterfly only better.”

The little girl scoffed and retorted , “Are you for real?!”

The little boy didn’t seem to hear this at all or at least was unable to process the mockery that came his way as he continued on with his own train of thought as if she had genuinely asked him “Are you for real? Please, tell me more!”

“A fluttershy is like a butterfly only it has a pony body. It is a pony with wings and it has a funny rump tattoo and silly hair and it’s really fun.” The boy seemed to be lost in his own thoughts of this make believe creature of his. “Don’t you like fluttershy?”

The girl just stood there speechless, both her eyebrows high as she stared down this half-smiled boy with real concern, until prompted to response to which she immediately snapped back, “Um, no, because I’m not a moron.”

The boy didn’t seem to process this insult either as he kept staring at her with those beady little eyes and that half-smile of his, obviously still lost in thought about the goddamn fluttershy. “Do you want to play fluttershy with me?” He asked, wanting to start a new game of his own concoction with her.

“No, that’s not the kind of game I like to play,” She responded, a look of impatience on her face, such a range of emotion never seen in a seven year old that this seemingly emotionless boy had somehow triggered within her. “I like to play the kind of games where two sisters fly out into the middle of the ocean and have an ocean bath. Those are the kind of games I like to play.”

“Fluttershy and her sisters could all go take an ocean bath, I can be fluttershy, which one do you want to be?” The boy was so quick on this response it was as if that was all he thought about. All emotion, all judgment and morality, all thought process and concept of reality, it was as if everything that made him a cognitive working human being had been pushed right out one ear as this mythical behemoth was pushed right into the other.

The girl just gave the boy a cross look, matching his ever persisting half-smile with a furrowed brow heavy with distaste. The conversation is pointless she realizes and instead she turns to the stone wall, expecting more of a reaction from the lifeless crags of the Earth than from this hollow mold of flesh beside her. Laughter echoed out from the manor across the grassy hillside as she gripped the top of the wall again and climbed over the first barrier, her unblemished black shoes touching into the shallowest of murky waters waiting on the other side.

She no longer looked at the young boy, who only stared on after her with that dead half-smile of his, holding his left hand inside his right, eyes barely more than slits. She refused to acknowledge such an abomination’s existence. “And to think Hitler’s dead right now.” She did not speak to him nor to herself, this was merely a universal truth she needed to have restated in the vain hope someone came to prove her otherwise. The boy did not seem to register this remark either as he kept his deadpan stare at her back, likely not even looking at her but the imaginary arcadia that had been carved in the excavated space that was once his mind.

This time the girl leapt over the next stone barrier in a single leap, unhindered and untroubled. She landed in even deeper water with a resounding splash, dirtying the tip of her dress. Her sudden unending laughter rang out along the hillside, mingling with the unknowing laughter of their parents in the manor, taking on a lunatic quality to its tone as it resonated throughout this garden of madness. Her cackling continued as she bunny hopped over another stone wall, and another, and another, the water becoming deeper and each wall becoming higher, yet she separated herself from the boy without much effort at all, who only stared on with that otherworldly gaze. As she continued even further out to the lake on her own the boy chased after the maddened young girl with one more remark. “I bet she’d like fluttershy if she gave it a chance.”

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This was an amazing prophetic dream I had this morning that was so amazing I didn't want to get out of bed because I was afraid to forget it so I just lied in bed for another hour until I could get up and write it all down before work. This is all of the dream I could remember, word for word.