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Tru Calling: Dust in the Wind

I didn't ask for this. I never asked for this calling. I just took it in stride when I received it.

I accepted it.

Maybe not readily, but I did. I accepted it.

I did not accept this. I didn't ask for this.

I did not accept death. Accepting my calling meant saving lives. It meant putting pieces of a broken heart back into a beating whole.

It meant changing destiny.

Besides my opposite who wanted to put an end to the lives who asked for my help when our days rewound, time was also an adversary. A second gone by could be a second too late. Every minute, every second…

And every once in awhile, time seemed to stand still. Suspended. Motionless.

Tonight time had stood still, if only for a few brief seconds.

Now I watched from a safe distance as the police arrived on the scene. Just watched. And listened.

My brain couldn't comprehend the cacophony of the wailing sirens. It was all too much. Too loud. Too much.

I seemed to linger in the distance. Watching.

Though my eyes could see, my body could not react. I felt displaced from my own body, watching the scene that played out in front of me as if from above.


I killed him. I killed Jensen.

I closed my eyes for a moment. Let myself breathe.

I close my eyes
only for a moment
and the moments gone
all my dreams
pass before my eyes in curiosity
dust in the wind,
all they are is dust in the wind

When I open my eyes again, my body no longer feels this sense of displacement. Only an empty despair. Hollowness.


I see the evil glint of his piercing blue eyes as the image of him resonates inside my head.

I refused to see him for who he truly was after I saved him. And now that's all he is.


Same old song,
just a drop of water
in an endless sea
all we do,
crumbles to the ground
though we refuse to see
dust in the wind,
all we are is dust in the wind

Dust that was not to be sprinkled in the ocean in remembrance or kept in a jar. Just dust. Spiritual residue from a life that should have been taken long ago.

Breathing deeply, I close my eyes again.

I feel a presence beside me. Skin meets skin as a warm hand squeezes my own.


A voice calls me out of my reverie, forcing me back into reality as I open my eyes and meet his gaze.

There is a slight tremor in my voice when I respond, trying to keep it from shaking. Trying to keep the tears from clouding my already sightless eyes. I had already seen what I refused to see.

"I killed him, Jack! I…"

"Shhh, Tru, I know," his voice says gently, calming me. The voice of Death. The only voice that could comfort me at a time like this. "That's why I called the police. It's over. You're alright."

Now that he's here, I know I'm alright. We have this unexplainable connection. Something that doesn't make any sense, something that wouldn't make sense to anyone else.

But to each other, we make perfect sense.

He wipes the tears from my cheeks without question. He slowly pulls me into his embrace, where I am suddenly surrounded by warmth. By his scent.

By him.

He strokes my hair and whispers soothing words of comfort which I can barely decipher as I am lost in my own clouded haze. I am precariously balanced between a throbbing, unrelenting sadness and an insatiable need for warmth and reassurance.

"I'm tired," I finally manage to whisper as my head rests against his chest and my salty tears soak his shirt.

"I'll take you home. And then I should probably go-…"

"No," I interrupt him. "I want to stay with you."

"My place it is then," he tells me. He presses a gentle kiss into my hair and then kisses my forehead softly.

But I do not lift my head from its place on his chest. I am too tired. I killed a man. The man I thought I loved. But now, everything was different and I am too tired to comprehend the repercussions of being in Jack's embrace.

I feel drained.



My eyelids become heavier as I collapse into his embrace, gradually losing consciousness. I feel the displacement happen again. A part of me disconnects as my spirit is set free and moves out of my body for a few moments. In this form, I weigh nothing. But I am something.

I am a spirit. I am whole.

Now that this part of me is outside my physical body, I see everything. I hear Jack whisper to me as he lifts me effortlessly into his arms. "Don't fight it. Sleep, Tru."

He kisses me again.

From above, I smile knowing that my physical body is safe. I will return to it soon, but first there is something else I must see.

I must see the body my physical essence killed not long ago.

I shiver looking down at his physical body, a dark pool of crimson painting a cracked portrait on his no longer beating heart. I don't want to know where his soul has gone.

For it is dust.

Dust in the wind.

Maybe that's all we are.

Dust in the wind
all we are is dust in the wind
dust in the wind
everything is dust in the wind
dust in the wind