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XVIII. IT'S A JIGSAW PUZZLE

WITH MISSING PIECES.

-

L I S A

It must mean something. The dreams were not just dreams; because if they were, we won't remember every detail. And I remember every detail intricately, so do they.

"Does it have to do something with the ritual we did?" I asked.

Jisoo's eyes widen, the way her eyes looked crazed and deep showed how she was thinking about it, putting the possibility into consideration. Rosie wrapped her arm around Jisoo's middle, as if to slow down the thoughts that ran a lightyear a second in Jisoo's head.

"We did ask for some kind of answers and maybe," I motion around with my hands, gesticulating what I was trying to point out, "These are the answers that we asked for?"

It made sense, did it not?

"Jisoo had been dreaming about where Wicked and Vile is, I have been dreaming of twenty-three— there were twenty-three demons, twenty-three angels, twenty-three dead witches, and twenty-three full moons." There was so much more than what I just listed.

"I dream of three people, this woman, there is a man in the shadows, and a man in the light..." Rosie mentioned.

"I have been dreaming of witches at the stake, but there is something about it that is telling me there is more to it than that, you know?" Jennie shivered, as she thought about the possibilities why witches were killed, I moved closer to her, and soothed her by rubbing my hand against her back.

"These are not random dreams, I refuse to believe it is." I spoke up, because at this point I am convinced that what we had went through had a product and this was it, we started something, tapped into it.

"We did create an imbalance for going to the fields," Jisoo admitted, "More than we should have." She then sighed, "This needs to make sense."

"Okay, it does, and when it does— what then?" Jennie asked.

"We tell Irene, we tell mom..." Jisoo answered with finality.

We made a mistake by not telling Irene in the first place.

• • •

Buttercup was playfully chewing on my hand, as we all lounged in the library, figuring out what the rest of our dreams meant, what it was really trying to say to us. It was already closing into twelve in the midnight, witching hour was nearing.

Jisoo was deep into a textbook, while Jennie had been idly sketching her dreams. Roseanne had her head rested on Jisoo's lap as she slept.

We were all on the floor because what is the use of chairs, right?

This was getting somewhat frustrating in my end, because what did those numbers really meant.

I looked at the page where Jennie was sketching, there were five women, sacks on their head as they could not see, and there were a group of people gathered around them—angry mobs. I then looked at Jennie's face.

Like in the photo, we were five including Ella. And that was when it dawned into me, "Jen?"

"Yeah?" Jennie asked, she looked up at me and smiled. Jesus, that gummy smile, I will never get sick of that.

"Aren't our parents friends with Irene?"

"Yes, they are, in fact they were a coven,"

"Cool, cool, cool..." I trailed off and began to play with Jennie's hair. "And every time, in your dreams, five witches get killed at the stake..."