Episode 3: To Be a Dreamer

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"Is this link good enough?"

"No. Her connection is too thin. She can't even meet us halfway."

"We can't carry the whole load?"

"Not unless you wanna break her mind. She can't handle our potency."

Ah.

It's them again.

It's been like this the past few nights: as soon as I pay a visit to my meadow of dreams, I find myself in this darkened space, my vision stripped as a loving zephyr kisses my skin.

A trio of feminine voices surround me, each with their own owed debts of utmost respect.

"We talked to the other mortal just fine. Got straight to the point."

"That one has spent much more time in the Other Side. Their soul has gotten used to the supernatural." A gaze pierced my flesh. "This one, however, is fresh—still accustomed to the ordinary."

"How do we talk to her, then? We can't just wait for her to get used to it; it'll be too late."

I parted my lips, my syllables hollow no matter how hard I tried.

"We let Lady Fate guide the way, and if she is in our favor, we will have our opportunity."

"And if fate is our enemy?"

Again with the attention, although this glare was icy, unforgiving.

"Then this mortal shall suffer." 





I shot up from my bed, the shadows of my room lively as sweat drenched my forehead. A quiver devoured the whole of my hands; same as my breaths, staggering mercilessly out my throat.

My mind wandered to the same question I had every night:

What's happening to me?


*  *  *


We sat in the comfort of the cafe, the night life bustling past the windows as inside, the sweet aromas of coffee swirled through our nostrils.

L took a sip of his drink, then offered me some.

I managed a meager smile. "I'm okay. Thank you, though."

Despite already being here for over half an hour, I had barely touched the cup of green tea nesting between my fingers.

"Yours is gonna get cold," my boyfriend warned.

Mindlessly, I nodded, struggling to keep my head straight. 

My rabbit sighed.

"I'm sorry. Only places open right now are cafes. I know they're not the most exciting but . . ."

"Huh? Oh, no! It's not like that!" My lips curved. "I'm having a good time. Honest."

My boyfriend knew better.

"Is that why you've barely said anything since we came here?" he asked. "You haven't talked much since I picked you up, for that matter."

He soon noticed the redness in my eyes, the deep bags beneath.

"B?" he called out. "You okay?"

"Would you believe me if I said yes?"

"Not one bit."

"Then you know me well."

Reluctant, I folded, confiding to Lucky the odd dreams I'd been having—the voices who announced my impending suffering.

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