I was lost. yet again. Same time, same place. Same dream.
A majestic victorian-era white house with four huge stone pillars in front stood before me. It reminds me of a Greek structure yet it wasn't greek at all. The pillars were thickly wrapped in green ivies and moss that are most abundant at its bottom. Something told me that this house was abandoned and left to disintegrate through nature's mercy.
I stepped on the stairs at the porch and felt the cold of its marble, my feet were bare, it had wounds and scratches telling me I must've ran for quite some time before I arrived at that place, maybe chased by something in the woods-yet I didn't felt the slightest exhaustion.
My nightdress was torn in several places, one of my sleeves were severely cut it hanged from my shoulder by threads, I looked at my hands, they were fine, but I had the strangest feeling they weren't mine.
I touched the brass door handles and pushed open one of the two huge oak doars.
Total darkness quickly swallowed me the instant I stepped into the room, I held out my hands in the hope of finding something to hold on to, to avoid stumbling in the dark. I held on to the furnitures nearby for dear life, moments passed and I can see the outline of the room. It was as magnificient as it was outside, only better.
The furnitures were built in brass foundations, the grande chandelier that hung in the middle of the room, the maroon-covered velvet sofas, the blurry portraits that adored the farther side of the room, everything, the room felt royal, like royalty lived there for a long time.
Maybe it was the subtle strands of moonlight passing through the windows that made me see clear enough the beauty hidden underneath the darkness that envelopes this cold sad place. But I could pretty much see everything in there. Maybe my pupils are dilated they may even reach my brows.
I was in the middle of admiring an elaborate piece of mirror that hung in the wall when I saw my reflection.
I was beautiful, more beautiful than I ever were.
The face in the mirror didn't belong to me. Those green eyes, that long lush mane of red hair, the thin freckled face that seemed to glow at the feeblest ray of moonlight, they weren't mine. It belonged to someone else I didn't know.
I looked behind me, at the farthest side of the room for I heard a little whisper in my hear. a little hush in the middle of silence, It was talking to something, and I realized that that something was me, it was looking at me. The portrait of an old woman wrapped in a cloak was looking at me.
I precariously approached the painting.
I walked very lightly on the cold marble floor afraid of being heard by anyone, Then I realized in silence why I never freaked out being in this cold dark house. I've been here before, I may even have lived here before.
I felt a cold gush of wind behind me and I looked back.
It was her, the same old woman in the portrait - dressed in black robes and a hood that covers her face - She held out her hand to me. Her fingers were long and gnarly, like that of old tree branches, only smaller, twigs maybe? Her fingers were really long and dirty, her nails were sharp like five knives attached to those stick fingers of her. A moment passed and those fingers were grazing the side of my face. It sent shivers down my spine. Then seemingly impatient of me being unresponive, she wrapped them around my throat.
"Come with me, Come my child"
I tried to answer her but my throat was dry and the words that came out of it were futile, no sound at all.
'There's no use in fighting my heiress, my blood. You can never entomb destiny. You'll turn eighteen soon and soon, you will perform the Carnage"
I'm genuinely afraid now. I didn't know this woman at all, much more what she was talking about.
"Be still young one. Be afraid of me. For no one deserved to be feared less he faced fear himself. Be strong dear one. He who possesses strength in the mind is superior to the others."
She then raised my face as if to meet her. I cannot place that face to whoever I knew. A single red eye weren't enough for me to recognize someone.
The scene melted as a thick mist of black smoke billowed the whole house. Then the dream changed.
I was sitting opposite a little boy in a see saw, he's maybe five or six, he wore a little blue jumper with a cotton white shirt inside, his hair was a mess of red, his eyes green like the grass that grew under his feet, his stare, was affectionate, like I was the only person in the world he loved,
"Papa?"
"He's not coming my love, I told you before, We'll never see him forever."
"Why Mamma? Papa doesn't love us anymore?"
"No child, Papa loves us more than anything in the world. and He needed to go away to protect you. You won't understand now but one day, people will try to hurt you. And he cannot protect you when he's with us,"
"I don't understand. I-"
"One day child you will, One day.." Tears fell from my face as I took a final look at those little green eyes. I made a promise to a child I never knew. Inside a body of a mother I don't recognize. And that thing about the father? I never understood one little bit, I spoke the words with conviction yet I struggle for it's essence.
"Not now young one. One day." The voice of the old woman rang in my ear as I woke up with a start.
