August 4th, 1993.
Rhiana lay curled on the couch in the living room, her blanket pulled tight around her. The television hummed softly in the background, but she wasn't watching. She had been drifting in and out of sleep all day. Outside, the sky hung heavy with snow, and the wind tapped lightly at the windows like a persistent guest.
Her eyes flicked toward the window.
At first, it seemed like a trick of the light—something red in the sea of white. A smudge. A blur. But as she leaned forward, her breath caught.
A woman was standing there.
Drenched in red. Her dress was old-fashioned, torn in places, stained—almost as if with blood. Her skin was pale, nearly translucent, and her hair clung to her face in soaked strands. But it was her eyes that froze Rhiana in place. They were dark, empty, and yet burning with something familiar.
The woman was staring directly at her.
Rhiana jumped to her feet. Her blanket slipped to the floor. She ran to the window, heart racing, but—
No one was there.
She rushed outside, barefoot in the snow. Cold bit at her feet, but she didn't care. She scanned the street. Nothing. No footprints. No red dress.
Just snow falling silently onto the earth.
Her parents came outside a few moments later, concerned and confused. They wrapped her in a coat and led her back in. She didn't speak. Couldn't.
This wasn't the first time.
The woman in red had appeared in her dreams—always on the edge of something important, always vanishing before she could speak. But this... this felt different. This felt real.
Her mother made her tea and sat beside her, trying to coax out what had happened. Rhiana said nothing. She didn't want to sound crazy. Didn't want to see the pity in their eyes.
Later that night, in the quiet of her room, she pulled out a fresh canvas and began to paint. Her brush moved quickly, urgently, before she could think.
She painted the woman. Standing in the snow. Watching her.
And when she was done, she sat back and stared.
It was the same face from the dream.
The same face from the window.
YOU ARE READING
Fossils of Memory
FantasySome memories are not your own-until they begin to haunt you. Rhiana Fosters has everything-a loving family, close friends, and a talent for painting. But when a recurring dream pulls her into a world she doesn't recognize, her perfect life begins t...
