Becca's Moments

Chapter Ten

"Please join hands," the minister said with a warm, genuine smile.

God, not this damn dream again!

This time it wasn't from a third point of view. I returned the minister's smile and joined hands with Leon... except his hands were bigger with a firmer grip. I wanted so badly to see who the hand belonged to, but my dream transpired like it always did and I was forced to look straight ahead.

"Leon Richards, do you take this woman, Rebecca Stellon, to be your lawfully wedded wife; and do you promise to love, honour, respect her, and comfort her, and keep her in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, keep thee only unto her for so long as you both shall live?"

"I do." The voice was also different. I had no way of controlling this dream or altering the outcome. It had to play out like it always did, and I had to smile and say the dreaded words I usually said whenever I dreamt this fuckery.

"Rebecca Stellon, do you take this man, Leon Richards, to be your lawfully wedded husband; and do you promise to love, honour, respect him, and comfort him, and keep him in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, keep thee only unto him for so long as you both shall live?"

I urged myself to say no, but dream-me grinned in delight. "I do."

"I now with divine blessings and the power vested in me, joyfully pronounce you Husband and Wife... you may kiss the Bride."

Dream-me finally turned, expecting to see Leon's face, but my eyes rested on someone totally different; someone far worse than Leon. My mouth opened in a quiet gasp and Kayden grinned back, his famous dimple making an appearance.

Shock paralysed me. Kayden licked his thick bottom lip with the swipe of his tongue. Then he leaned closer and closer...

I shot up in bed. How did he end up in my dream? As if he wasn't torturing me enough in reality! As an afterthought, I looked to my left to check if the devil himself was beside me, but the space in the bed was empty. I sighed, lamenting such an awful dream and the confusion that came along with it. There and then I decided that sleeping over at Kayden's house—in his bed, no less—was a huge mistake. I stretched with a yawn and jumped at a body standing at the end of the bed.

He looked young, standing at around 5 ft 3, with hair as long as Kayden's (except a light copper shade as opposed to Kayden's darker russet colour) and piercing dark brown eyes. He was a younger version of Kayden, and it terrified me.

His head cocked to one side. "Are you Rebecca?"

I paused. "Yes?"

His lips lifted into an impish smile. He had the same slanted smirk as Kayden. The boy approached Kayden's side drawers, opened the top one and pulled out a wide-tooth comb. "I just came to get this." He pulled out his hairband and his light brown hair puffed out around his face like a lion's mane. He casually combed his hair as he analysed me.

"How long were you watching me?" I asked, pulling the covers up to my chest.

"Like 20 seconds. You were talking in your sleep."

Because your damn brother is haunting my dreams.

"I know about you," the boy said, still with a smile on his face. His adolescent voice threw me off; it was on the verge of breaking.

"Is that so?"

"Yeah. Kayden always talks about you, saying how you're nice and stuff."

The corners of my mouth quivered as I attempted to hold back a smile. Needless to say, I failed miserably.