Circling the waterfall.

Fading into colour is the start of this story. Etching into the eyes of a blurry soul who is just recently 'awakening' dawns a courtroom, where a judge's face can not be seen, only felt. Everyone in the room consists of their best clothes and the soul seems to recognize them all. The soul's father paces before the faceless judge, shouting his best vocabulary about something the soul can not understand. The soul's mother sits behind, crying silently. To the far right sits someone the soul can not see very well, only determinable as a person by the dim outline. A feeling of hatred and anger burns in the soul's gut. An urge to shout approaches, only to be stopped by the Grand Decide.

Fighting for the idiot blur is just another blur, who speaks no language the soul recognizes. In the jury box are people who seem to be there, but not, existing more like ghosts than actual people. As the soul stares at them, sadness covers everything. The lights even seem to dim.

Hours, days, and even months pass on by. Finally, after all of the arguing was complete, the judge spoke. To the soul, it sounded like the recordings of a whale that the soul remembered listening to as a very small child. The gavel rang with 14 echoes, booming off of all the people the soul could recognize. The rest seemed not to hear it.

A feeling of loss covers the soul. A feeling of unfairness. A feeling of defeat.

It is.