Just a Nightmare? Or is it a sign?

In he beginning, when all was still darkness a voice sang in her ears.

"You are here now, my beloved; I have made you come back to me."

In the dark she hears something like music. The sound is soft and pleasant, a gentle tune played on an old piano. It sounds familiar, as if it had once been something else entirely but has now returned to that which makes it unique.

A woman's voice, high and sweet with an almost musical undertone. She recognizes the melody immediately but cannot place it exactly where or when she heard it before.

The song ends with one final note and then there is silence again, broken only by the beating of her own heart. Her chest feels tight and she can't quite remember why. She tries to breathe but finds it difficult, and her eyes begin to sting.

"Hello?" She calls out. If this is some kind of afterlife, she wants to see if anyone is listening. A voice answers, speaking from somewhere in the blackness, yet she is unable to pinpoint its location within the void around her.

"Are you here for me?" This time she does not recognize her own voice. It is weak and frightened, and she wishes that someone would help calm her nerves because she can barely feel them herself. She tries moving her arms to no avail. They do not respond at all to anything she attempts to do.

A moment later a figure emerges, illuminated by starlight coming from above. He looks to be about twenty years older than her, his face framed by dark hair streaked with silver at the temples. His clothes are simple but well kept, as though he had dressed quickly upon arriving here. At first glance she supposes he must belong to some sort of clergy. However, the man's clothing does nothing to obscure the fact that he is naked beneath.

She wonders how long he has stood there staring at her. Long enough perhaps for him to notice her fear, her confusion. He is silent now, seemingly content to watch over her, waiting for her to recover. She takes a shaky breath and asks, "Who are you? How did you find me?"

He laughs softly. In the shadows the laugh is distorted, echoing strangely in the space between them.

"I am here," he says softly, "because you belong to me, my precious child. You are mine to hold, always and forever. Now please rest, darling, sleep…"

And then, without warning, he vanishes and she is alone again, standing in the pitch dark void. Her chest aches, heavy and oppressive. All around her she can hear breathing.

"Who…?" She whispers to no one in particular. No reply comes. Perhaps he isn't really here; perhaps she imagined him.

It doesn't matter what happened, what he said, who he was or who she belongs to, she is safe. She closes her eyes, breathes deep through her nose, and allows herself to drift off into sleep.

* * *

When she wakes up again, the world is much clearer, sharper. There is light filtering down on her, casting warm golden rays across the dark room.

"Welcome back, my love."

It's that same voice she remembers. Only now she realizes what it means. "You're real. You came to get me, didn't you? To make sure I never left…"

"Yes, I did," the voice replies. Her body begins to tremble and tears stream down her face, although she has no idea why. Maybe the dream wasn't so bad after all. She turns toward the source of the voice, half expecting to see an angelic being sitting beside her but instead sees a man, dressed similarly to the man in her dream. He holds out a hand to her but when she hesitates, his hand drops back to his lap.

He speaks. “What’s your name, my dear?"

His voice reminds her of someone she knows but cannot place who. Still shaking, she manages to answer. "Yves."

"Thank you for answering" he says, rising from his seat and walking toward the door. As he moves away, his image becomes more defined, the form becoming more distinct until he finally disappears, leaving behind only the lingering echo of his voice. Finally, the light comes on. And the room was illuminated.

There’s something very disconcerting about watching someone walk away, even though they aren’t real and shouldn’t actually exist. But Yves is grateful for the company even though she’ll never truly know who he is.

After lying in bed quietly for several minutes she finally decides to leave the comforting confines of her bed in order to explore her new surroundings.

There is a strange emptiness to the rooms. They seem devoid of life. There are no windows nor any furniture and the walls are bare except for a few pictures pinned to the surface. None of them contain recognizable faces, and each one bears two letters. One reads simply ‘H’. The second reads ‘M’.

She is tempted to open them to see if there are clues to the identities hidden inside, but a feeling of foreboding prevents her from touching any of them. For all she knows, it could be dangerous. Instead she picks one up randomly and leaves it lying where it landed, hoping she might get another chance to read it when she wakes up.

Once she returns to her bed she falls asleep again but the dream is different. This time she is in a small town surrounded by tall buildings. It seems peaceful and beautiful. Everything is painted with vibrant hues of blue and red and green and gold. She is walking along a path lined with flowers, and they look incredibly pretty.

She stops to take a closer look at the flowers and notices something peculiar. Each flower has a letter attached to the stem. M is written next to H; M stands for ‘Married’.

She continues walking. After a while she passes a sign. The word ‘Happiness' is printed in large print. Then, beneath the words is a drawing. It shows a smiling couple holding hands. The man seems to be pointing at something ahead of them and the woman is gazing intently at him, a smile adorning her features. She appears to be looking directly into the camera.

Something about this picture triggers a memory buried deep in Yves' mind. It is not clear exactly what it is. But she's certain she has seen it before.

* * *

She wakes to the sound of knocking on her bedroom door. Her mother opens it before she gets a chance to answer. Yves sits straight up in her bed, blinking blearily, trying to adjust to the sudden bright light.

"Oh, you're awake!" Her mother smiles broadly at her. "Are you hungry?

She sighed and said yes. Her mum closed the door. She then realised it was all a dream.