Once Upon A Dream

He always appears with that dreadful blood-red cloak obscuring his face from me.

I know it’s him. The same mysterious stranger who materialises halfway through my dreams, watching me dance around the forest barefoot.

Always the same dream. For as long as I can remember.

I can feel his eyes on me, though when I turn to face him, the music in my head quieting to the imminent dangers, all I can see is that cloak. It hangs low, so only the faint stubble on his chin is visible. He seems to imagine that he’s perfectly well hidden, standing behind the old oak, but I still see him. Still feel his presence.

I can tell down to the very second when he appears.

The forest is full of animals, so lively with their song that it’s hard to picture it ever being empty.

But it is. They never stay for long. Not while He's around.

The owl is my favourite. He hoots away from his perch in the oak tree, swaying along to a song he creates. When I’ve started singing along, he swoops down and hovers in the air, at just the right height to be face-to-beak with me.

I imagine his long wings, outstretches and flapping away to keep him level with me, are hands, and I spread my arms out and dance alongside him, my bare feet easily sliding through the dewy grass. We move around to the music of the birds, my golden locks flying around as I spin, leaning close to my owl companion.

Only, the owl is nowhere to be found. The stranger has taken his place, again.

He joins me in song, the scarlett hood still covering him from me. His breath is hot against the back of my neck, and the hairs along my arms prickle, a shiver wracking through my body.

His hand reaches out and takes mine in its grip every time I try to move away. He spins me around and around, and back into his rigid arms.

The day shifts, suddenly. The early morning sun that was rising just minutes ago is now sinking away beyond the horizon, the entire day stolen away by him, again.

It’s the darkness that turns him truly frightening.

I try to escape each night, every time the sun hides away. It never works.

He lets go of my hand and I make haste, following the same path as I do every night. He pursues me through the trees, enjoying the never-ending game of cat and mouse. He appears out of nowhere, pouncing from the bushes, sending me off course.

A trap. A trap I can’t avoid.

His shadows grow ever longer, odd horn-like shapes appearing around his head. They grow and grow, until he no-longer resembles that prince-like stranger I saw long, long ago.

No. He transforms into the Beast.

Hunting his prey.

The trees turn on me, too. The night shifts everything on it’s head, even me.

Branches and twigs reach out to grab me, tearing at my dress, blood streaking down my arm like a lone tear. Everything grows together so densely, I struggle to fight my way through.

I’m dizzy, losing focus. The path is long gone, taken by the thorny forest growing around me.

Something takes hold of me from behind and I’m yanked back.

There he stands, horns protruding through two holes torn in the hood of his cloak. A terrifying smile pokes out underneath, sharp teeth waving at me, welcoming me.

His grip on my dress relaxes so suddenly I forget to breathe.

I’m falling, falling, falling…

Gasping for air, I shoot up, holding my hands to my racing heart. I close my eyes for a moment and smile.

It was just a dream.

A hoot echoes outside, and I turn to the window to see my dear owl friend at his usual perch.

Except, when I eventually open my eyes, he isn’t there. Neither is the perch, not the window, not my bedroom at all. The four walls I’m so accustomed to waking to find every morning are gone, and rather than the cozy cottage I’ve lived in for the past sixteen years…

A single spinning wheel, glowing faintly in the dim light. A small room, with no window nor door.

And a torn, red cloak, hanging over the spindle. It beckons to me. Come here, child.

It was just a dream…