The Dream Catcher.

Chapter One: Tamber Anna Young

 

 

Chapter One.

Tamber Anna Young

I had a dream. A dream caught in reminiscence of my own dreams. It was utterly beautiful. So much so I had prayed never to wake up. There were flashes of light. Bright, white lights. It was flickering through the frosted window panes like the rising sun. And then came a chime. It sounded like a church bell-peaceful and filled with much beatitude. I could not see where I was sitting, or what I was doing. In the dream, I only had my own ears to hear and my closed eyes which pranged with the glorying heat of the lights. I knew the panes were frosted because the atmosphere was rather chilly. I took a guess that I time-travelled to the month of December. I love Decembers. Because it was the only time I get to sing carols with my family and not singing alone in the showers all the time. But the dream showed no family at all. I felt like i was alone in this room. It seemed like my heart was kept in a jar and my soul was taken away from me. There was no love at all, just me and this amazing, beautiful sound. At times, i could not really feel myself. I don't feel like i exist.. 

The chime was gracefully hypnotising me with every second of my heartbeat. I think it was guiding me to somewhere but my eyes refused to open. I had no clue why exactly it did not want to. And then I was walking. My feet sunk into the soft snow as I sauntered through the cold. I was following the chime. It was pulling me gently and at that moment, it felt so human to me. Maybe someone was ringing the bell. Maybe someone was holding me, just that I couldn’t feel it as much as i couldn't feel myself. All the questions of maybes were finally drawing near to a resolution. The sound was just a few distance away and the strong wind had died down. The chime floated into my anticipating ears and my eyelids fluttered. A small ray of glistening light filled my partially opened eyes. I can see it, I know I can and I will. I urged my eyes to open. I couldn't wait any longer. Time was unexpectedly still far away. Finally, i get to see what i have longed to see. My eyes opened and...

 

….I see a white plain ceiling above me. It was seven in the morning and the alarm clock just buzzed off and woke me up. I buried my face into the pillows and sighed heavily. Again, my dream had no ending. I had dreamt of the same scenario over and over again during the last few weeks and whenever I was about to open my eyes, I open them and all I see is a ceiling. I tried getting drunk and even overwork myself, just so that my dream will last longer but no matter how hard I tried, it would, without fail, repeat the same outcome…abruptly. It was painfully frustrating to wake up most of the time trying to figure out where I actually was and what I actually could have seen.  Every time after I’ve woken up, I would spend more than fifteen minutes pondering about it all the time and my mom would start yelling. It was like a mystery I was trying to unfold, and decode the password for the access to a complete dream. I looked at the clock and there it was, the accuracy of my prediction that exactly fifteen minutes had passed. And… now I shall get dressed before mom clears her throat and starts screaming at me.

I sprinted down the stairs as soon as mom did her yelling in the midst of blow-drying my hair. As soon as I reached the flat ground, mom shoved a paper bag of sweet-smelling pie into my hands and kissed my cheek before she scurried to the door and set off to work. Well, I was pretty much expecting pancakes for breakfast, placed nicely on a proper plate with mom sipping her Chinese tea and advising me on how to behave in school. God, I missed those times when she used to make one of the most delicious pancakes on earth. Those were the times where breakfast was my favourite time of the day because one bite takes you to paradise and also because mom’s presence makes it feel more like home. It was until dad’s death after a car accident that made mom started working to feed the family…. to feed me especially. Even though I don’t really show my sadness and grieve towards the unhappiness of my life, but honestly, I miss dad… a lot and the much heavenly mornings I used to indulge myself into. I was more reserved of my feelings for the sake of my mom. I wanted to show her I was strong and she should be too. And I can tell she was slowly and successfully picking up the broken pieces of her heart and getting back up on her feet because if she was still living in remorse, I would get no breakfast at all. At least that’s what I’ve experienced a few weeks right after dad’s sudden death.