His footsteps echoed as he walked on the concrete sidewalk. The cold wind rushed to send shivers down his spine, making his teeth clatter. Gazing upon the clear night sky dyed a hazy purple, he heaved a sigh. If only the stars twinkled like the diamond dust on 47th street.

A tree branched whacked his face as he rudely walked into it. "Sorry," he mumbled, scrambling out of the way, nearly tripping on his feet. He remembered when he was a child scrutinizing the ground for grasshoppers, and God forbid he'd step on one. Their shattered melodies were the only thing that remained consistent in his life. But then again, it was so easy to spot them back when tons of fireflies policed the area. They were steady lights, rising and dropping, like the nine suns Hou Yi shot down.

He awoke himself from the past. Surprisingly nothing woke him up this time. But then again, what was left to wake him up? He oversaw the land and saw nothing but dust. The abandoned nest barely hung from the cliff-like trees. Heavy air crushed everything; it couldn't even sigh to relieve the pain. The pollution killed its lungs alongside the precious critters. The same pollution that doesn't allow the little diamonds in the sky to twinkle.

He sighed as he climbed the stairs, soon facing the door. His back faced the remnants of the precious fantasy world that once was. He wanted to turn back; face what little left the world offered with its shivering hands, gasping for air. But he didn't. He couldn't; since he opened and walked into the house, locking the door behind him.

After all, he's the one who shot the arrows.