There's this dream that I've been having. There's this person who I have never met, but they seem too real. They seem familiar, as if I've already encountered them many times before. Is it someone from a past life, maybe? A she or a he? I really don't know, but they keep calling my name. Chanting it softly, while my body submerges into this sparkling blue water and continues to fall slowly underneath the flowing liquid, yet I can breathe. This voice sounds so familiar. It feels close enough to tickle my ears, but I can never make out anyone or anything. It's touching, loving almost. It fills me with a warmth that I can't really explain and surrounds me with the feeling of safety.
Who are you? Can you hear me? I want to know who you are. I want to know why this dream keeps repeating each night. Is there some sort of meaning behind all this? Answer me! Please, if you can hear me, at least tell me your name.
"You don't remember? You meanie, you said you'd never forget." Giggling. "Haha but I'll forgive you, for now. Here's a little hint. It starts with a..."
BUZZ! BUZZ! BUZZ! I wake up and the warmth disappears as if it was never there to begin with. I look around in my half-awake daze and see the same old bedroom I've woken up to throughout my 16 years of life, still under my black and white checkered blanket. The familiar streaks of sunlight shine through my bedroom curtains and momentarily blind me as I reach across my nightstand to slam the still buzzing alarm clock, that's been way too abused on account of my daily irritability to wake up on time, off. I shuffle out of bed per usual and start getting ready for what the next boring day has to offer me.
"Hm...so it starts with an A."
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The World in Our Hands
Roman d'amourMaison, a 16 year old boy, goes through life with no ambition or drive. He begins to have a strange dream of someone who he's never met, but he's never able to actually see this person, only hear their voice. Through these dreams, he begins to quest...
