"Ai, when are we gonna go to the fair?"

"This weekend."

"But you said that last week..."

Zach rolled his eyes in annoyance and sighed, placing a rough hand on top of his little brother's head as they walked down the grey, empty sidewalk lining the street towards their parents' apartment.

"Some stuff came up. Let's just get home and we can play some League, alright?" he said, ruffling the child's hair with a bored expression on his face. The seven-year-old glowered at him, with an anger that only a child who'd been told 'not now' could muster, before running off ahead down the old byroad, only stopping at the end of the street corner.

"Fine!" the boy shouted, jogging in place, "I'll race you back home, then!"

And with that, he dashed out of sight, no heed given to Zach shouting at him to wait up. The older male let out a single huff of irritation, before smiling slightly and jogging to catch up. It was a cold, grey morning, the frosty air catching in his lungs as his breathing grew a little heavier from the exercise. Decent weather, as far as mornings went. He and his brother were out for their morning walk, a sort of daily ritual for them whenever Zach was home from university, and the little altercation they'd just had was also a somewhat regular thing. So many things his younger counterpart wanted to do with him, so little time to spend. Well, at least he seemed to enjoy the time they [i]did[/i] spend together...

[i]"I just hope you don't lose that spirit when you get older, little bro,"[/i] Zach thought to himself, making it to the bend. It was these kinds of thoughts that had him contemplating his life so much, lately; when did he lose that fire? That enthusiasm? He wasn't really sure. All he knew was that when his little brother set down on his own path in life, he would do anything he could to prevent that fire from going out in him.

A forlorn sigh escaped from the young man's lips as he turned the corner. He really shouldn't complain - it wasn't as if he wasn't happy. He had a few scholarships that were paying his way through school, and his relationship with his parents was a lot better than most people he knew, his age. Getting solid grades in a solid Computer Science major, even having some work experience with the internships he completed over the summer, there was really no way he couldn't be content with his life.

[i]"But what happened to when I wanted to [u]do[/u] things?"[/i]

The thought pestered him even as he saw his brother about to cross the street to their apartment complex, something he would've scolded him for since he didn't look both ways. He was content... but, no, it wasn't even that. He just accepted how things were. Simply thought that it could be worse. When did he start thinking like that? Things could be better, too.

Regret. It wasn't very strong, but the feeling was definitely there. There were so many things he wanted to do when he was little: become an astronaut, a scientist, a chef, a firefighter. Some of the more grandiose dreams naturally died out as reality set in, but there were plenty of things to strive for other than 'President' and 'Rock Star'. But then, those dreams, too, slowly died, as the down-to-earth guidance of his parents gently weeded them out.

[i]"A painter? Honey, why not something more practical?"

"Novelists take some big risks. Maybe try engineering, instead?"[/i]

His teenage life was basically a long list of parental suggestions, like that, and over time, he let the pressure sway him. He wasn't bitter about it, though. In fact, if you asked him now, he'd wholeheartedly agree that it'd be pretty hard to make it as something like a studio artist. But, then again, it wasn't always about the money, with him. What if he'd tried...?

Before he could delve any further into this thoughts, however, the sudden squealing of tires broke him out of his self-reflection, instantly drawing his gaze to the side. It was an old, black sedan, coming around the curve at highly illegal speeds.

[i]"The hell, a drunk driver?"[/i] Zach wondered, but he was already in motion, sprinting towards his brother with speed like he was possessed. The street was narrow; his brother jumped up in surprise, looking to what had made the noise, but the car was already almost on him-

And then a loud, sickening thud rang out, Zach flying through the air as the sound of screeching brakes filled his ears. The pain that immediately began to wrack his body rendered him numb to any tactile sensation, but a sudden stop in motion told him he was on the ground, and he slowly looked up with his rapidly blurring vision to see his brother safe on the other sidewalk, pushed to the side by his herculean effort. Safe. But, now... he was going to die, wasn't he? It was funny, though - even as he felt his life fading away, his blood seeping into his eyes, a feeing akin to relief washed over him. Was this really what dying felt like? Somehow, he'd always thought it would feel more dramatic. 

[i]"We still haven't gone to that fair, yet..."[/i] he thought, a sudden pang of regret making its way through his relief. Well, life was tough, wasn't it? Though, he supposed he was dead, now. The young man took one last, weak look at the grey skies tinted red, imagining what it might be like on the other side... and it was there that he breathed his last.

[center]***[/center]

...Or so he thought. 

Seemingly moments after his grisly 'death', Zach's eyes shot wide open as the scent of greenery and fresh air assailed his nostrils. Not exactly a smell you come across every day, in the big city. He took a moment to feel out the soft grass he lay on, waiting as his eyes adjusted to the bright sunlight of wherever it was he found himself, at the moment. As he came about, however, he began hearing voices surrounding him, muffled at first, but becoming more coherent with every passing second as his senses slowly returned to functioning levels. Most of what he was hearing boiled down to "where are we?" and "who are you people?", two questions that he would really like to know the answers to, himself. He wasn't much of a lucid dreamer, so this couldn't have been a dream... right? And him getting hit by that car... that definitely happened. So, where was he now?

Gently picking himself up into a sitting position, he took a look around. A huge, grassy plain, with a river running off in the distance, though perhaps the most noticeable feature of his surroundings were the giant landmasses floating up in the sky. Weird. The people whose voices he heard were standing a little ways away from him, and judging by the questions and puzzled faces, they didn't know any more than he did. [i]Was[/i] he dead? He looked down to his hands, seeing the familiar tan appendages partially covered by what he confirmed was his favorite, cotton long-sleeve. He was wearing jeans, too, though his shoes were conspicuously missing. Not that he minded; he liked walking around bare-foot more, anyway.

Shaking his head, Zach got up to his feet, shuffling his way over to where the group of individuals were talking, though he kept some distance away out of habit. He raised a hand in greetings, more to just announce his presence than anything else, and waited for someone, if anyone, to come out and explain the situation. Just what was going on...?