My head lolls to the side as I slowly wake. My eyes flutter open, and I sit upright, noticing I’m in a small wooden chair with a floral cushion. I’m in a room, plain white walls decorated with landscapes in golden frames, no other furniture other than my own chair. The wooden floor is cold beneath my bare feet, and my eyes scan those also in the room.

I notice Maverick and Keane, exactly how I imagined them from my dystopian novel; Defiance. Keane catches my eye and smirks, winking at me. Maverick snaps to get his attention, casting an apologetic glance in my direction. I see the Colonel watching them intently off to the side.

Then I notice Thalia from my dystopian-fantasy book. She’s too busy controlling an orb of rain water to see me right away.

I see the innocent man and woman who I carried through many beginning chapters of my never-completed sci-fi and horror stories, the supernatural being keeping an evil eye on them.

I see countless other characters from years in the past, some of them glaring at me. Presumably because I put down the pencil from their story and never picked it back up again. I’m surrounded by them, asking me questions about why I had abandoned them.

I do my best to explain the difficult position I was in in real life, and how there was too much stress to focus on much. I also apologize to Thalia for neglecting her story, as I have not worked on it in months. Her, being an understanding character, forgives me and promises to protect me, no matter the cost. Maverick and Keane join her side, Keane once again giving me a wink.

I know these characters are loyal and brave and powerful, but sometimes I can’t believe my life might rest in the hands of Keane, the master flirt and teaser, who can’t be serious to save his life.

Out of my peripheral, and standing behind my shield of characters and the incoming wave of angry ones, I see a character I had created in a short story for fun. I had given her abilities unlike any other. She gives me a brief head nod and snaps her fingers.

I bolt upright in my bed, breathing heavily. I look around, to see I’m back in my old room again. Silently, I thank my characters for always being there for me to rely on when I’m in a pickle, or even when I need to get out an emotion. Hopefully, in case it happens again, their anger will have cooled down.

**Very choppy and short, but in my defense, I’m just bored at 2:00 am. Hope this entertained you at least!**