Painting It Red (The Oracle Series - Book One)

Chapter 7: Regression and Reveries

The large porcelain jacuzzi tub finally fills up to the brim with steaming water, and I slowly lower myself into its soothing depths. Letting the water revitalize my senses, I indulge my mind by allowing it drift to that brief moment with Kent in the hospital wing. Nothing illicit happened, but would that change later on? Would my body betray me and act on those indescribable lustful sensations he instills in me? The fiery look in his eyes was almost animalistic. I didn't know he had that much passion in him, but it was clear as day, just lurking beneath the surface.

It's like he was so controlled and composed from the moment we met, and then suddenly, he wasn't. Is this just another side to him that I hadn't experienced in our short time knowing one another, or does he feel this infuriating need the same way that I do?

It would be so much easier if he didn't. We would be fools to make this situation any more complicated than it is, and I am obviously not in the right mental headspace to get physically or emotionally involved.

As I finish up my nighttime routine, I say a silent thank you to whoever provided me with pajamas and other essential clothing items. Not only are they the perfect size, but they are a welcome sight considering that all I had after the getaway were the clothes on my back.

Pulling on a silky-soft pajama set, and slipping into a cozy pair of slippers, I trail sleepily into the bedroom. Curling up in my soft, warm, brand-new bed I finally allow myself to drift off into a peaceful, much needed slumber.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

I'm once again greeted by purple sands, only this time they are less insistent, moving softly and with little urgency. The purple-eyed boy is nowhere to be seen, but I can feel his presence throughout the surrounding mists.

Lately my dreams have been getting stranger. Less randomized and more focused. Whoever the boy is, he seems to be stepping in, much like a teacher, and guiding me to the specific things he wants me to see.

His magical voice permeates the air, as if from nowhere, and yet simultaneously from everywhere.

"Let me show you, my child."

The scene around me shifts, overtaken by a brilliant white light. The purple sands have receded to the far corners of my surroundings, and in their place is an enrapturing whirling mass of glowing white sands. They trickle through my line of sight, weaving delicate patterns nimbly in thin air before me. Their beauty is remarkable, unparalleled, as they dance before my eyes. Gently, tendrils begin to wind themselves into intricate loops around me, finally making contact with my dumbfounded form as they circle up and around my arms.

The moment they reach my skin, something within me noticeably shifts. I feel a humming frequency building within my very soul, warming me like a familiar caress as it expands outward, capturing every inch of me. As it builds in strength, the humming reaches its desired capacity and my world is dissolved into a blinding display of powerful light. I feel a reassuring impulse traveling through me, and its presence feels unbelievably new, and yet achingly familiar all at once.

I am floating, hovering above ground, but I do not feel fear. The mysterious force lifts me gently, and I somehow know that the sands will not drop me. As if guiding me, I can feel the sands softly urging me forward, into the depths of their sentient consciousness. I follow their lead, letting them guide me into the heart of time itself.

The moment I comply, I am stunned to see images, memories, flashing before me one by one. They flit across the sands, which swirl in every direction around me and yet somehow aren't the least bit frightening.