The Torments of a Dream-Catcher

Prologue:

She looked up at him, her face shadowed out and sunken in. Dark circles had formed around her eyes from her many sleepless nights. She was tormented like many of the souls she encountered in her work. Still, she went about her work quietly and with an ease that surprised her companion. She had a quick and painless way of completing the job, her hands moving quickly along the thin wire, untangling it in small chunks as she went, her hands moving with minds of their own as she sang sweet songs in a worn, tired, gravellly voice.

This job was in a women's shelter. He didn't look at her, but he could sense her tears as she pulled out her bag and collected the wire, replacing it in moments. She sighed, she could see their torments.

The children were the worst. She would cry as she worked, her eyes like faucets releasing all the water from her small, cloaked body. She hung catchers at their heads, singing them lulabyes.

"To rid them of their torments." she would say

Her companion didn't stir, he didn't sing along, but he knew all the words. He just watched as she removed and replaced each wire.

She looked at the boy in front of her and kissed his head, he didn't have a catcher.

"He is tormented." She said laying a hand on the boy's chest, "As I am, as she is, as is my destiny."

The boy stirred, looking around the room. He didn't see her though she was right there.

A tear slipped from her face and onto his cheek as she replaced his wire. She leaned down and whispered in his ear just loud enough that her companion could here.

"Promise me you won't give up." Her breath was heavy and shallow as she continued to cry, tears fell like rain onto the little boy's skin. "It honly gets worse if you give up."

Her companion looked at her and again he didn't stir. He didn't tell her that the boy couldn't hear her. He didn't tell her that this would only make their job take longer. He didn't tell her that they needed to finish and sleep. He didn't say anything because anything he told her she already knew.

She looked away from the boy towards her companion and nodded before standing up slowly from the bed.

He knew better than to question her methods.

She closed her bag and looked out the window to the next house.

"I'm ready." She said, her face covered once again by her cloak hood to hide her face.

He nodded, their silent code that said everything from "don't worry" to "I'm ready" to "I understand".

And this time it meant he understood. He understood her best. He understood and knew in his heart the one thing she never said aloud. She hated her job.