"There's nothing under the bed," I told myself over and over again in my head, it was all that I could do, after all. "There's NOTHING under the bed!" This time I whispered it to myself. Then came the muffled scream. My face turned as white as the ghost that I knew was stalking me. "There's something under the bed."

A great battle is raging, yet no one will ever win. The clash of their weapons, sparks fly, followed by the chest rattling phenomenon of what we mortals call thunder . The shells of their ammo rain down upon me as I watch this godly spectacle. The warriors are the colors of death: black, grey and all other shades that represent the worst parts of life. A great battle is raging, yet no one will ever win.