Dreams are Whispers of the Soul

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You kept having this… dream. Though, sometimes, it didn't feel like a dream; more like a memory.

It started off with you sitting straight in a black carriage. You knew it was day but the sun’s light didn't seem to pierce through the windows, leaving the inside dark and gray. You sat alone in it, but you kept your eyes down on your folded hands, your face showing no emotion. Around your wrists were shackles, and you could hear them rattle in time with the bouncing of the carriage. Outside, there were the sharp clacks of horseshoes on stone and the occasional snaps of a whip as the horse was urged to go faster. The world seemed somber but you're never quite sure why until the carriage stops moving.

The door opened and a man forced you to stand and get out. Leading you with a hand firmly wrapped around your arm, you both walked toward a set of wooden stairs. You refused to look up, not yet accepting your fate. You're taken up onto the platform that's as tall as you and are stood in the center. A crowd started to form around the stage as another man tightens the noose around your neck.

You couldn't quite understand all of the crowds words, but you know they're furious at you and were yelling at you. Sometimes you can manage to catch the word ‘witch’ being thrown at you.

Finally looking up as the man prepares to lower the trap door, the crowd is in front of you, but their faces were blurred and gray. Until one pushes and shoves his way through the angry mass, trying to get to the front. He's not gray. You can clearly see the color of his darker skin and hair. His face didn't share the mad look of the people around him, but rather, a hopelessly sad one. You can't quite pick out all his features but you have the feeling you know him. And that you both care for each other.

Some part of you didn't want to see him like this, tears falling in huge blobs down his cheeks and his hands shaking. Some part of you wanted him to go away so he doesn't see you--

“Any last words?” The gruff voice of the man holding the trap door lever asked.

After a moment of silence on your part, he shrugs and you can hear the man in the crowd scream. Just before you neck snaps, you mouth, “I love you.” to him.

You woke up in a cold sweat, as you always do after having that dream. Or was it a nightmare? You huffed, throwing the blanket off of you and swinging your legs over the side of the bed. You checked the clock of your nightstand and decided to get ready for the day. When you were done, you started out of your apartment to your work. You couldn't afford a car so you were stuck with walking.

~<•>~

“Hey, (Y/n).” Your co-worker greeted when you entered the coffee shop.

“Heyo, Kyle.” You said, walking to the back to get your name plate.

The day went by slowly, as it always seemed to do, and you knew the jingling of the doorbell would one day annoy you, but for now, you tried to enjoy it and your work.

Then, when the day was winding down and your shift was just about over, one last customer came through the door, and when you turned around to ask their order, you hesitated for just a moment. For just a moment, you thought you knew him. You had no idea where you might have known him from and you tried to place the face, but just as quick as the moment had come, it was gone, and you were facing a stranger again.

Quickly brushing the occurrence off, you went up to the counter and patiently waited for the man to make his decision. While he glanced around the menu, you caught yourself staring and directed your eyes to your hands. He’s kind of cute…

When the man made his order, you went to making the drink, but the feeling that you knew him started to creep back into your mind when you heard his voice. Once he paid and made his way towards the exit, you confronted him about it.

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