She was floating above a forest, drifting towards a clearing. Upon reaching the secluded area, she saw black robed figures chanting in a strange language, a language that reminded her of forgotten lands as ancient as Atlantis. None noticed her. It felt as if she didn’t exist, as insubstantial as a ghost. The girl that was there but wasn’t there; the girl that saw and didn’t see; she knew something was wrong. For the robed people exuded an aura of menace. They were lined up in a circle and in that circle lay a young boy on an altar. Above that boy stood a masked man holding a ceremonial dagger.

“Dark Lord of all that was, all that is, and all that will be; we offer you a sacrifice of the pure and innocent.”

With the final words, the dagger swept down and ended a life that had yet to truly begin. The silent watcher gasped with horror as she watched the boy’s blood drench the altar. The masked man began to take off his mask. He turned and-

“Noooooooo.”

A gust of wind blew the girl farther and farther away. Soon the woods were naught but a green dot. And the longer the winds carried her, the hazier her mind became. She could no longer remember what had horrified her, what had shocked her, what had made her heart wrench. She flew until…nothing. It had never happened.