Chapter 1
Micah
Here we are again. A vast white room, if you can call it that. I don’t see any walls, or a floor, or a ceiling, or really anything for that matter. Nothing but… her.
Her long brown hair cascades over her shoulders like a silk waterfall. Her eyes are like crystal blue pools that I find myself reflected in.
She stands frozen in place, in time, just like I am. We stare into each other’s eyes while this warm, white, vast expanse of light envelops us. And then, without any warning, she’s gone.
And I wake up.
“And this has been going on for a month now? Every night?” Ian asks, scribbling furiously in his notebook.
“Yes, like I said, the dreams started on the anniversary of Amber’s…” my voice breaks, echoing the sharp shards of my heart.
I let out a deep sigh. Ian looks up momentarily from his notes to give me his best attempt at a sympathetic nod, before returning to pen his thoughts. I gladly accept the moment of silence to redirect my own thoughts to anything else.
I scan his office, a collection of psychology books lining the shelves on the wall, arranged alphabetically by author. Pictures of him and Annie on their wedding day prominently displayed on the mantle above the fireplace next to a collection of painted stones that I imagine were given to him by their daughter, Mia. On his desk, I notice the marble fountain pen set Amber and I gave him for Christmas a few years back.
“Micah?”
His voice snaps me back to the present. “Sorry, I must have zoned out there for a second. What did you say?”
Ian leans in, looking intently into my eyes, his pen perched and ready to capture my every word. “And you’re incapable of moving or speaking? Or, have you just not tried?”
“Well, I guess I haven’t thought about it really. I mean, I never tried to. Why, should I?Will that put an end to this recurring dream?”
“It certainly can’t hurt. Often times, dreams like this that hang on for days or weeks on end is our way of our psyche to tell us something. In your case, it can’t hurt to ask.”
“Ask the stranger I’ve conjured in my dreams why I conjured her?” I ask sarcastically.
“Yes.” He says simply, removing his glasses and cleaning them with a cloth. “You’re positive you never met her? Typically, dreams like this use a person from our lives, past or present.”
“I’m sure, I’ve been racking my brain for weeks to figure it out, but I really don’t think she’s anyone I know.”
“Well, then let’s start by asking who she is and why she’s there.” He closes his notebook, glancing at his watch. “Times up for today. Same time next week?”
“Sure, I guess.” I stand to my feet, reaching into my pocket and taking out my wallet.
Ian stands and walks around his desk, sitting on the front corner. “Hey man, put that away. We’re family.”
I think he knows I don’t really want to be here, that I’m only doing this as a favor to my sister, Annie. She’s been bugging me for over a year now to seek therapy and after the dreams started, her nagging just got worse.
“By the way, Annie wanted me to remind you to bring the cranberry sauce. See you Thursday, good work today!” He pats me on the back as we walk towards the door.
“Yeah, thanks.” I mumble, wrapping myself up in my scarf and stepping out in the crisp air.
I used to love Boston this time of year. When the weather would get cold enough, you could smell the frost, I’d run down to this little corner diner where I used to study for my LSATs, they made the best hot chocolate. I’d grab 2 cups and take Amber for a walk down our favorite street. They always had the best Christmas lights.
I usually don’t mind walking into work, but the streets are full of happy people today getting ready for the holiday season. I’d rather avoid it all. So, I quickly hail the first cab I see.
I give the driver my office address and close my eyes, hoping for a few moments of rest. Despite sleeping for almost 8 hours last night, I’m exhausted. Ever since these dreams started, I haven’t been able to stay awake. It’s like I keep getting pulled back…
Into this never ending dream…
Where everything is this white light. And then I see her eyes.
Samantha
I stare into the bright white abyss. My mind is blank. Well, that’s not true. My mind is racing with a million different thoughts, unfortunately none of them have to do with my psychology paper.
The blinking curser on the white screen taunts me. Daring me to give up. To close my eyes for just a few minutes and let the sweet release of sleep take over.
I close my laptop and curl my arms around its warmth, placing my forehead on the lid. At least the library is quiet. Maybe I can catch a few z’s before my chem lab.
Almost immediately, the blackness is replaced with white again. And there he is.
I’ve spent the last month trying to get him out of my head, specifically out of my dreams. But, night after night, and now even during a catnap in the middle of the library, I find myself completely captivated by his brown eyes.
But something is different, his eyes aren’t just staring back at me. They’re searching, almost pleading. It looks like he’s struggling internally, wrinkling his forehead beneath is sandy brown curls.
He takes a deep breath, which catches me by surprise. Every night it’s like we’ve been frozen in time, gazing upon one another for hours that feel like seconds. We don’t move, I wasn’t even aware either of us was breathing. But as he exhaled, my world spun on its axis.
“What are you doing here?”
