Prologue
The nightmare always began the same.
Ash fell from the sky like a cloud of broken dreams, as she stared at the remains of what had been her home. A river of tears snaked through the soot covering her cheeks, but she didn’t notice. Her beautiful home was gone forever.
A desperate need to search for something overtook her. She didn’t know what she was looking for, just that she needed to find it. And her parents were still in there. She had to findthem.
As she took a step forward, she could feel hands grasping at her arms to keep her back. But the urge to find what was missing, to help her parents, was too strong. So with all the strength she could gather, she pushed them off, and continued on.
Upon crossing where the threshold had once been, her heart burned with fear that everything was lost. The rubble still held heat, even though the flames had been extinguished hours before. Where there were once walls, now only stood piles of ash and burnt boards.She looked to her right, and froze in place, eyes locked on four burnt posts just standing there. What could that be? She thought to herself. Even as she thought the question, the answer slammed into her. That had been where her grandfather’s oak dining table sat. A possession so prized by her mother, that she had taken months to choose the perfect wallpaper to accent it. It was supposed to go to her when her mother passed. But now it was gone, and heartbreak only stood.
Shaking her head, she turned back to her mission. She needed to find them. So she continued on. As she walked down the hall, memories of treasured possessions stormed her. Her mother’s antique china; her father’s lazy-boy recliner that had seen better days, but you could easily catch him sleeping there at random points in the day; lace curtains handsewn by ancestors long dead, that had danced so gracefully in a summer’s breeze. It was all gone, and there was nothing she could do about it.
But she could save them. So even as a fresh tear rolled down her cheek, she continued on. She could see something white poking up from the ash a little ahead of her. Why in a world full of black and grey, would something be as white as snow? She had to find out. Taking the few steps to reach it, she bent down and noticed it was some sort of paper. Picking it up, she flipped it over to see that it was a photograph. She also noticed that the flames did indeed touch it, as she saw the faces of everyone but her had been burned out. She was the only one left in the once happy photo of her and her parents.
Was this a sign? Was it fate telling her that she had no one left? That she was utterly and completely alone?
No.
She wouldn’t, couldn’t take it as that. Her destination was only a few short steps away, and nothing was going to deter her from getting there. Not some painful memories that tore her heart to shreds, or fate laughing in cruel victory at her life being thrown into a dark abyss. Wiping back her tears, she managed to make it, albeit with a hesitant stride. She may be determined, but she still felt the weight of the memories pressing hard on her. Before she could fully compose herself, though, she smelled the sweet citrusy scent of her mother’s perfume.
How was this possible? There should only be the scent of burnt, wet wood and soot. Shouldn’t there be? But no, she could smell it, dancing under her nose, tempting her to fall to pieces. The sound of her father’s booming laugh played like music in her ears. Visions of her parents dancing in every room played like a movie in front of her. And that’s when she had to admit it. Standing in this space, that had been their bedroom, surrounded by everything that was them, she had to admit that they were truly gone. With that reality slamming into, she finally gave into the storm brewing inside of her.
Why had this happened to them? Why had they been taken, and why had she been left behind? They were good people.
Before she could think any further, and with fight-or-flight instincts kicking in, she turned to run from every painful memory. Before she could even move, though, something burned her foot. She could feel nothing but a searing pain, and bent down to see what was causing the intense pain. What she found, were her mother’s pearls. They were just as lustrous and glossy as the last time her mother wore them, but they glowed from an inner heat. She could feel it pulsing through them, stinging her hand as if she touched the coil on a hot stove. She smiled to herself, because she could remember her mother telling her not to do exactly that.
As she stood lost in a thought, the air began to feel warmer. The heat began to rise, and the smell of smoke snaked its way into her thoughts. Sensing that something was wrong, she tore her gaze from the pearls, and noticed she was no longer standing amongst rubble. Walls were once more in place, and the furniture was in where it had always been. And there, laying in their beds sound asleep, were her parents.
What was going on?
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw flames begin to lick at the door. She was back to the beginning of the fire. Thinking that she still had a chance to save them, she dropped the pearls, and turned to run to their bedside. As she took the first few steps, everything changed again. She was no longer in her parents’ room, but now in her own room; in her own bed. She sat up screaming as the flames flicked out from under the door. Smoke filled the room, making it hard to breathe. Hard to think. Dizziness overcame her, and she fell to the floor.
Cursing herself, she regained her feet. She needed to get out, not black out. She needed to get to mommy and daddy. They would know what to do. They always knew what to do. With a renewed hope, she ran to the door. Before she could reach it, a shadowy figure ran from the shadows, tackling her into the dark abyss.
The sudden inability to breathe knocked her from that abyss, and into reality. A reality where she could still taste the smoke from those flames, causing her to cough until her lungs burned. This happened every-time. The panic would cling to her nerves. Check, she thought as it danced along her nerve endings now. Sweat would pour from her body, and drench her clothes and sheets. Double Check. There was a definite soaked feeling coming across. She looked down, and the pool of sweat confirmed it.
Still struggling to bring fresh air into her lungs, she scrambled to her adjoining bath, and jumped into the shower. Her clothes were already soaked so it didn’t matter, she just slammed on the water, and concentrated on breathing.
As the cool water hit her, she thought about the fact that the nightmare was back. This always happened. Every time she felt like she could finally move forward with her life, stop letting things haunt her, something comes back to remind her that she was kidding herself. She knew the reason behind it this time.
Feeling her breathing return to normal, finally able to take full breaths, she turned the water off and stripped out of her wet clothes. Her skin prickled as it hit the air. Reaching for her robe, her gaze caught the mirror that sat above the sink. Standing in the reflection was someone she no longer recognized. The eyes held fear and defeat. Their posture was that of a cowering animal. The frame gaunt from malnourishment. No. That couldn’t be her. She may have skipped a few meals to tie a few things up at work, but none of what she saw in that mirror was true.
What was going on? The nightmare, her reflection. Why was this happening? Why now? So many questions raced through her head, and the answer hit her like a ton of bricks.
It’s all because she was going back.
Shit.
Author's note:
