Starry Serendipity || R.A.B

2. Valerie and the Marauders

Summer 1975

I wake with a start, my heart racing as if trying to escape the clutches of the nightmares that had haunted my sleep. The remnants of those unsettling dreams cling to my mind like a dark mist, refusing to fade into the light of day. I take a shaky breath, my chest feeling tight, and slowly sit up, disoriented by the transition from the surreal terrors of my dreams to the tangible reality of my room.

The room is cast in a dim, pre-dawn light that filters through the curtains. Shadows dance along the walls, a subtle reminder of the darkness that had gripped my subconscious just hours before. I rub my eyes, trying to banish the lingering images that still hover at the edge of my thoughts.

As I swing my legs over the side of the bed and plant my feet on the floor, a shiver runs down my spine, a phantom chill that seems to echo the icy fingers of fear that had clawed at me in my dreams. I wrap my arms around myself, seeking solace in the reassurance of my own touch.

The silence of the early morning hangs heavy, broken only by the distant sounds of a world beginning to awaken outside my window. I rise and pad across the room, my steps hesitant as if I'm afraid of stirring the remnants of those nightmares back to life.

In the bathroom, I splash cold water on my face, hoping to wash away the traces of the darkness that still seem to cling to my skin. I glance at my reflection in the mirror, searching for signs of the girl who had gone to bed last night, the one unburdened by the weight of these haunting dreams. The one whose mind was full of worry for her best friend's brother and couldn't phantom the horrors that would wait for her in the night.

I knew I shouldn't have fallen asleep. I knew it was going to be bad, it always is when I can't clear my mind because I have to many thoughts racing trough it.

I take a deep breath, willing myself to shake off the lingering unease. With each inhale and exhale, I remind myself that I am in control now, that the monsters that had prowled through my sleep have no power in the light of day. And as the sun begins to rise, painting the room with its soft golden hues, I find a glimmer of hope, a promise that this new day holds the potential to wash away the darkness and replace it with a sense of renewal.

As I stand in front of the mirror, the cool water on my skin serves as a reminder that the night's nightmares can be left behind. I take a moment to steady my breath, my gaze focusing on my reflection. The girl in the mirror stares back at me, her eyes holding a mixture of determination and apprehension.

Today is a new day, I tell myself. The sun is rising, and with it comes the opportunity to rewrite the script of my thoughts. The dream-induced fear can't dictate the course of my waking hours.

With a resolute nod to my reflection, I turn away from the mirror and head back to my room. The clock on my bedside table reminds me that time is moving forward. My thoughts shift to the hours ahead, a mixture of excitement and nervousness bubbling within me.

In a few hours, my brother's best friends, will arrive. It's been a while since we've seen each other, and this visit promises a day of laughter.

As I pull open the curtains, sunlight spills into the room, warming the space and my spirits. The light washes over me like a gentle embrace, a reminder that the world outside is vast and vibrant, waiting to be explored. A smile tugs at the corners of my lips as I envision the day ahead, a day that I refuse to let the night's terrors steal from me.

I pull open my closet doors, searching for an outfit that matches the spirit of the day. There's something reassuring about the act of choosing clothes, of piecing together an ensemble that reflects my mood and intentions. With each garment I select, the weight of the nightmares lightens a bit more.