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Prologue
There’s been a dream that I’ve been having every night.
“I had that dream again last night.” I said under my breath, soft candlelight lighting up the shadows on my face as he looked at me, sympathy written all across his facial features.
“Really,” He said. He was quiet, as if it was some kind of taboo to speak of such things. I looked over at him - I mean, really looked at him – something I hadn’t done in a while. There is always a difference between just staring at a person and really looking at them, cause its when you really look, that you study all their features and notice all their flaws, and realize how much a person’s face tells you more about them before you even know them.
“Yeah,” My voice was shaking, I couldn’t help it. Once again I studied his face; the way how his usual caramel eyes looked almost pitch in the lighting we were in. It felt like some kind of horror movie to tell the truth.
“Was she in it again?”
Let me explain, I’ve had this dream for the past three months. Every night, without fail, it floods my mind, making it the only thing that I think about when I fall into deep slumber. It’s not always identical, but it is always similar. I’m always in the woods, sometimes there’s a girl, and she’s beautiful, with long auburn hair and ocean blue eyes; while in others, it’s just me, alone in complete nothingness. Throughout one of the scenarios of the dream, I’ll be trying to find my way out, cold, confused, but it all seems so real. In the end, I reach a light, but that’s when I wake up, never knowing what’s behind it. And when I’m with the girl, there’s always a field of fireflies that we end up stumbling across, lighting up everything around us, until she turns to me, whispers inaudible, and disappears just before I wake up.
This time though, it was different. I was alone, in the same woods as all the times prior. But there was no girl, and there was no light leading me to what I hoped was salvation.
“No.” my voice shook more, and my hands decided to follow their example as well. By this time he looked at me with such intensity and confusion, in his black eyes I saw myself, frightened.
“Then it wasn’t the same dream,” he started, but stopping as soon as he noticed the trembling of my hands, the fear on my face. “What happened?”
I died.
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