mistland

the real people had always confused me, puzzled me. they lived in my world of mist, but they didn't belong. mistpeople, like me, had never made me nervous. i felt things around them, but the first time i saw a real person, i was down right terrified. he looked just like the mistpeople did, but instead of the shriveled, limp heart that everyone i knew had, this mistman's heart was vibrantly beating. not only did he have a living heart, everything about him seemed real. his laugh was genuine, his presence was understanding, his countenance was sincere. yet, something about him repelled me. when i saw his heart, living and beating, i knew i wanted my heart to live too. but the very reality of this man frightened me. he was so different from everyone around him. his body was still mist, as everyone in this world is, but the most important part of him was whole; his heart. every mistperson treasures and protects their heart, whether they realize it or not. you can tell when someone has made their heart vulnerable: the heart will shake when something is happening to it. the heart only shakes when it is being hurt or being loved. if it is hurting, it will get a deep gash that doesn't bleed but leaves an ugly scar when it tries to heal itself. every heart, except the hearts of the very very young have scars. however if a heart is being loved, it slowly becomes more and more red, growing closer to the colour of a living heart, but never actually reaching that colour. the closest i'd ever seen a heart get to beating was the heart of the bride and groom at weddings. even then, the heart wasn't real. i'd lived my whole life thinking that hearts did not beat. i only caught a glimpse of the mistman's beating heart as he strode by me on the street one day, but it drove me nearly wild curiosity and confusion. my life was changed from that moment.