What She Was Owed.

What if nightmares were real?

Does a beach feel nice? It does.

Imagine running barefoot on the sand, the cold tide washing over your feet, the sun warm on your skin. Imagine giggling as someone runs after you, lifting you off your feet until you squeak with laughter. Someone who kisses you and tells you everything is going to be alright. Or sitting on a couch, wrapped in their arms, watching a romantic movie. So nice. Almost like a dream to her.

A beach with a family was a dream. Someone scooping her up and making her laugh was a dream. Could it ever come true? Given her situation, no. It wasn’t possible. She believed that. She knew it. Everything in this life felt like a lie. Was there anything left for her to hold onto? No. Did she want to die? Maybe. But she never had the courage—never had the guts to end it herself.

Her lungs began to burn as she kept running barefoot on the cold concrete. She couldn’t see anything; the darkness around her mirrored the hopeless black of her life. No one to help, only men behind her.

She veered into a dark alleyway, running blindly. Her dirty white dress was torn to shreds. Had she ever worn proper clothes? Never. Had she ever eaten a proper meal? No. Her life was a endless string of no.

When would she be free? Did running mean freedom, or was escaping this place just another form of trap?

No, they will catch up, she thought.

She glanced back over her shoulder. She could hear the heavy thud of footsteps, though no flashlights cut through the dark. She slowed her pace, her breathing ragged and heavy. She pressed a hand against her chest, gasping violently. Her body was covered in deep bruises and painful burn marks, her knees and palms scraped raw. She was barely covered—just a filthy, ragged piece of cloth clinging to her frame.

“Where did the whore go?” a man yelled nearby.

Her eyes widened in terror. She ducked behind the first shelter she could find—a large trash bin—and scrambled beneath its shadow. The rancid stench made her violently nauseous, but she had no choice. She clamped a hand tightly over her mouth, tears welling in her eyes.

What did I do to deserve this?

Footsteps echoed around the alley, drawing closer. She bit her lip, squeezing her eyes shut.

“We need her alive for the boss,” a voice barked. “Find her now!”

“Yes, sir!”

The men scattered to search the area. She cracked her eyes open, peeking past the side of the bin. When the coast seemed clear, she dragged herself out, her legs trembling violently. She hadn’t eaten in three days—maybe more. Her stomach groaned painfully, and she clutched it tight as her vision began to blur.

Limping down the far side of the alley, she spotted a faint glow ahead. Light? How could there be light in the middle of the night? Was she dead? Was this heaven? Heaven sounded like a nice place.

The light cast long, warm shadows of window frames and moving figures onto the concrete pavement. She lifted her weary eyes and read the sign above: Hay Bay Restaurant.

“Food,” she muttered under her breath.

She stumbled inside. The warmth hit her instantly. The chatter of the dining room slowed to a murmur, then fell completely silent. Someone gasped. Another whispered. She couldn’t focus on any single face, her eyes wandering aimlessly through the haze until she spotted a shadow—a man. Maybe two.

“Miss, are you okay?” someone asked as she drifted toward them.

“Get her out of here, I’m losing my appetite!” a customer shouted, waving a hand to block the foul odor clinging to her dress.

“Food,” she whimpered again, her sight fading fast. She stared at the two men standing before her. They resembled each other—brothers, perhaps?

Their eyes were a striking ocean blue. Blue and bright. Soft. A lie, she thought.

She reached out toward one of them. “Save me,” she rasped.

“Who are you?” a soft voice asked.

She clutched her aching stomach, her knees giving out. “Save me,” she whispered.

She could no longer see the light. She couldn’t see the blue of their eyes. Darkness closed in, and she collapsed.

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She was floating through the air. Golden hair spilled across her face, and she wore a long white gown woven with glitter and light. She giggled softly as a gentle breeze brushed against her skin. The entire universe seemed to smile along with her as she bounded across a lush, green mountain, plucking a wildflower to tuck behind her ear. Birds chirped a melodic song that sounded like music crafted just for her.

She came the smell of food. She opened her eyes to find a massive table overflowing with a feast. She glided down to a chair and picked up a dragon fruit. It was sweet—almost too sweet. She reached for a bowl of grapes, the bright flavor bursting against her tongue. She felt instantly nourished, full after a single bite. She lifted a glass of icy water and drank it all in one breath, surprising herself.

I have to see more, she thought, rising back into the air.

The birds sang in her wake. Below her stood a man in a crisp white shirt, looking like a storybook prince. He had golden hair and eyes as deep and blue as the ocean, with skin as pale as snow. He smiled up at her—a warm, genuine smile—and extended a hand.

“Do you like it here?” he asked.

She landed softly and nodded. He took her hand, pressing his lips gently against her knuckles. Her cheeks flushed a rosy red.

“I love it here,” she whispered.

“Really?” he asked, pulling her closer.

“Yes.”

“Don’t fall in love with a fantasy,” he warned.

Her brow furrowed. Before she could speak, his face twisted into the monster who had tormented her.

The bright sky turned a bruised grey, the lush plants withered to ash, and she plummeted from the air. She crashed hard against the dead earth. Blood splattered around her. She scrambled backward on her hands and knees, sobbing.

“No! No!” she screamed into the pitch-black void. “NO!”

Her eyes snapped open—and met those same curious blue eyes once again.