97 The Truth About The Dream

Sibyl’s POV

The next day, I was awakened by the sound of birds outside the window.

I closed my eyes and stretched comfortably.

I haven't slept so soundly since Doyle died.

"Awake?" A voice said.

I opened my eyes, and Lowa was standing in front of my bed, looking at me. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine..." suddenly, I realized something was wrong. I shook my head hard and opened my eyes again.

Everything in front of me lost color, mostly black and gray, and a little white.

I rubbed my eyes and opened them again. My vision was still colorless.

"It looks like you've lost your ability to tell the difference between colors. At first you won't feel comfortable, but that's OK, you'll get used to it soon."

I heard her sigh softly.

The world around me became strange. I got out of bed carefully, touched the table, picked up the glass and drank a glass of water.

Everything loses color.

I bowed my head, a drop of tears in the Cup.

"Oh, don't cry," said Lowa, wiping my tears with a tissue, "If you