Since our heated altercation yesterday, Kiaran and I have maintained a stoic silence. Yet, beneath the surface, an invisible thread of longing tugged at my heart. Despite my lingering anger, a part of me yearned for his presence, his familiar warmth.
Last night, Leya's somber voice crackled through the phone, delivering news of her absence from class. Her dog's deteriorating condition had cast a shadow over our already tumultuous day. With Leya's comforting presence withdrawn, the weight of solitude pressed upon me, threatening to suffocate.
Exiting my fourth class, I navigated the bustling corridors with a sense of purpose. My steps quickened as I left behind the clamor of students and ventured toward the sanctuary of the lecture hall. Ahead lay the promise of respite, albeit fleeting, in the tranquil embrace of the courtyard.
Passing through the wrought-iron gates, I entered a world veiled in serenity. The courtyard, a hidden oasis amidst the chaos of academia, beckoned with its allure. Lush greenery encircled me, their leaves whispering secrets of solace. In the center, a fountain gurgled softly, its crystal-clear waters shimmering under the midday sun.
Drawing in a deep breath, I allowed the fragrant bouquet of blossoms to envelop me. Jasmine vines twined delicately around trellises, their intoxicating scent mingling with the heady perfume of lavender. Peonies bloomed in riotous splendor, their velvety petals unfurling like delicate secrets.
A smile tugged at the corners of my lips as I settled onto a weathered bench, the wood cool beneath my fingertips. Here, amidst nature's embrace, I found solace in the symphony of silence. For a precious moment, the tumult of emotions ebbed away, replaced by a sense of peace that transcended words.
I made my way to my favorite bench under a big chestnut tree. These trees had stood there for several decades, if not centuries. They bring life and offer homes to so many, it's no wonder they are the pride and joy of the creator of this garden. I admired the way the flowers had taken root in the base of the tree, almost as if the tree was giving its life to provide for the flowers. A raven sat perched on the higher branches, fluffing its feathers before taking flight. I watched it until it disappeared from view.
The garden was peaceful, a small heaven in this hell.
I slipped the earphones into place, the familiar click signaling my retreat into a realm of melodies. With a deft touch, I summoned a playlist, its eclectic mix promising to carry me away on a journey of sound.
The first notes danced into existence, a symphony of rhythms and harmonies weaving a tapestry of emotion. As the music enveloped me, I felt its resonance echo deep within my soul, a comforting embrace amid chaos.
With a sense of purpose, I retrieved my sketchbook from the depths of my bag, its weathered cover a testament to the countless worlds it had helped me explore. Charcoal nestled in my grasp, a tool of creation waiting to be unleashed upon the blank canvas of possibility.
Lost in the cadence of the music, I surrendered myself to the dance of inspiration. Each stroke of charcoal became a brushstroke of emotion, a fleeting glimpse into the depths of my imagination. With every line and curve, I poured a piece of myself onto the page, a silent dialogue between artist and muse.
It started out as a feeling
Which then grew into a hope
Which then turned into a quiet thought
Which the turned into a quiet word
And then that word grew louder and louder
'Til was a battle cry
I'll come back
When you call me
- THE CALL by Regina Spektor
With each deliberate stroke, the blank expanse of paper transformed into a visage shrouded in mystery. Lines and curves coalesced, giving rise to the contours of a face that seemed to materialize from the depths of my subconscious.
A long nose emerged its elegant arc a testament to strength and resilience. With each stroke of charcoal, the once featureless surface began to breathe with life. Deep-set eyes gazed back at me, their enigmatic depths hinting at untold secrets.
Sharp cheekbones carved their presence into the portrait, casting subtle shadows that danced in the flickering light. Dark strands of hair cascaded with an air of defiance, framing a face etched with determination and purpose. Beneath a furrowed brow, a firm mouth curved with an inscrutable expression.
As the final strands of hair fell into place, a sense of familiarity washed over me, mingling with the thrill of discovery. Though the face before me remained a stranger, there lingered an inexplicable connection, as if our paths had crossed in some distant echo of time.
With a furrowed brow, I scrutinized the portrait, searching for answers amidst the swirling depths of memory. Each detail felt like a puzzle piece, waiting to be fitted into place. Yet, for all my efforts, the identity of the enigmatic figure remained elusive, a tantalizing enigma begging to be unraveled.
Glancing at the clock hanging above the entryway to the garden, I panicked. I was going to be late to class. Shoving my sketch and pencils into my bag, I rushed to the door. Luckily, the lecture hall was just inside, so I would only be a few minutes late. As I entered the corridor, I spotted Professor Black's figure walking toward me. Today she was wearing a black suit, with a fiery red blouse underneath.
"Ah Miss Wells, hello," she greeted me with a smile.
"Hello, Professor Black," I said, holding the door open for her
"Thank you, Amirah," she said, walking straight to her desk at the front of the room. I entered the lecture hall and moved to the back as Professor Black began explaining the exercise she wanted us to work on. I found my seat and pulled out my notebook and pen. I tried to focus on the exercise, but my mind kept going back to the charcoal sketch. Who was he, and why did he look eerily familiar?
Professor Black walked around the room, listening to the other students discussing the readings we'd been assigned. I nodded along to whatever the girl next to me was saying about the exercise when Professor Black stopped by my desk. I saw her stoop next to me and pick something up. I turned my head, only to see my sketch in her hands. I flushed in embarrassment. My sketchbook must have fallen out of my bag when I pulled out my notes.
"Thank you, I didn't see it fall off my bag." I reached for the sketchbook, but she held it tight in her hand as she stared at the man.
"May I have it back, Professor? "
As the urge to retrieve my sketchbook washed over me, a name materialized with startling clarity: Richard. It was as if the mere thought of reaching for the sketchbook had triggered a cascade of memories, conjuring the name from the depths of my consciousness. A simple flash, yet its impact lingered, leaving a trail of questions in its wake.
My fingers hovered over the worn cover of the sketchbook, hesitating as if drawn by an unseen force. Before I could fully grasp the significance of the vision, Miss Black's voice shattered the reverie, her words a balm to my bewildered mind.
Her eyes met mine with an intensity that belied the casualness of her compliment. A fleeting moment of connection passed between us, her grip on the book releasing as if in acknowledgment of some unspoken truth. "You're extremely talented, Amirah," she said, her words carrying a weight that transcended mere admiration.
"Thank you," I murmured, my mind still reeling from the unexpected revelation. As Miss Black turned to depart, I found myself rooted to the spot, my gaze fixated on the sketch before me.
With a newfound sense of urgency, I scrutinized the portrait once more, each detail taking on a heightened significance. And then, like a bolt from the blue, realization struck me with a force that left me breathless.
Richard.
The name reverberated through my mind, echoing with a sense of recognition that bordered on disbelief. How had I not seen it before? The resemblance was uncanny, impossible to ignore. And yet, there it was, staring back at me from the pages of my sketchbook.
With trembling hands, I tore my gaze away from the portrait, forcing myself to confront the truth that lay before me.
Richard, Miss Black.
The pieces fell into place with a sudden clarity that left me reeling, the implications of the revelation cascading through my mind like a torrential downpour.
As I stole a furtive glance in my professor's direction, a shiver of unease rippled down my spine. Could it be mere coincidence, or was there something more sinister at play? The lines between reality and illusion blurred, leaving me adrift in a sea of uncertainty.
Yet, amidst the chaos of my thoughts, one thing remained abundantly clear: the face staring back at me from the sketchbook was someone that Miss Black knew.
Stuffing my sketchbook back into my bag, I turned to focus on the group discussion.
As the class drew to an end, Professor Black held up her hand. "There's been an emergency meeting called for all staff, so your classes for the rest of the day have been canceled."
A cheer went up in the class and students began packing up their bags. "Please finish pages 164 and 165 for our next class, I'll see you all next week!"
- From Kiaran: We need to talk., I'll wait for you in the garden.
A sigh of relief escaped me, its release carrying with it a weight I hadn't realized I'd been carrying. His gesture, though unexpected, was a balm to my frayed nerves. Despite the lingering tension between us, a part of me yearned for reconciliation, for the chance to mend what had been broken.
As I mulled over his message, a flicker of anticipation stirred within me. We needed to talk, that much was certain. Yet, the prospect of confronting him filled me with a mixture of apprehension and resolve. This time, I vowed, there would be no distractions, no interlopers to derail our conversation.
A sense of determination settled over me as I envisioned the upcoming encounter. We would lay our cards on the table, and address the simmering grievances that threatened to tear us apart. But first, I needed assurance that our meeting would remain undisturbed, free from the meddling influence of outside forces.
The thought of him bringing that woman to my sanctuary, to the very place where I sought solace and peace, ignited a fierce indignation within me. If he dared to shatter the tranquility of my garden with her presence, I would not hesitate to defend it with every fiber of my being.
Packing my things into my bag, I moved to exit the lecture hall. Stepping into the corridor, I decided to text Amala. It had been too long since my last visit to her apartment and it was time for some much-needed sister time.
- To Amala:
Mala, my last class was canceled, so get ready! hope you got the wines ready.
Also, K decided to talk today, tell you the details later. xoxo
- From Amala:
As if you'd hide anything from me! Got the wines don't worry. See you later xoxo
Making my way across the corridor, I stepped outside and inhaled the floral mix. I loved this garden so much. Cigarette smoke pierced through the smell of flowers and I frowned. Stepping down into the garden, I spotted Kiaran sitting on my favorite bench with a cigarette perched between his lips. Smoking equals serious conversation.
"Why do you insist upon smoking?" I asked, walking toward him.
"Amirah..." he begged, throwing his cigarette away.
"No, not this time! You don't get to talk Collins" I was almost yelling at this point.
I could feel my anger rising, the ball of nerves that was now stuck in my throat was all too familiar. Seeing him like that in front of me, with that guilty look on his face, didn't help at all.
"You knew ... you knew why I can't sit in the back... you knew. And yet you let her" I whispered feeling the tears coming. I brushed them off quickly.
He doesn't deserve my tears.
"I'm so sorry Amirah" he implored, walking toward me.
As I gazed upon him, his earnestness radiated from every word, a beacon of sincerity amidst the tempest of our emotions. Yet, despite the genuineness of his expression, a simmering anger churned within me, threatening to engulf the fragile truce that hung between us.
The truth was undeniable: I was furious with him. The wounds of our recent conflict are still raw, festering beneath the veneer of civility that draped over our conversation. And yet, amidst the tumult of my emotions, another realization dawned upon me, one that tugged at the frayed edges of my resolve.
I am, at my core, a caretaker. A guardian of those I hold dear, few though they may be. In a world fraught with uncertainty, they are the pillars upon which I lean, the guiding lights that illuminate the darkness of my solitude. And though our numbers may be few, their presence is a source of strength, a reminder that I am not alone in this tumultuous journey called life.
As I grappled with the conflicting currents of anger and compassion that surged within me, I knew that I could not simply cast aside the bonds that tethered us together. For in the end, it is our connections to one another that define us, that give meaning to our existence in this vast and unforgiving world.
And so, with a heavy heart and a weary soul, I resolved to confront the demons that lurked within the depths of our fractured relationship. For despite the pain and the anger that threatened to tear us apart, I knew that beneath it all lay the glimmer of hope, the promise of redemption that beckoned us forward into the unknown.
"You, sir, are a complete idiot BUT you are my best friend. Sadly" I said after a couple of minutes.
He stayed silent, looking at me to see if I was forgiving him.
"Amirah, I'm, deeply, totally sorry" he repeated, his hand trying to take mine.
Damn it.
I went to him and threw my arms around him to hug him, and I felt his around my waist hugging me back.
"Never do that again, ever" I whispered in his ear.
We stayed a couple of minutes in each other arms.
"I hate when we fight like this" he whispered.
"Stop being an idiot then" I answered, getting out of his arms with a small smile.
"You still own me drinks on my birthday, can't forgive you that easily" I added with a smirk
"As if I wasn't already going to pay for everything on your birthday," he replied with the same tone I used.
"Now that we cleared that up, what are your plans for today?" he asked, taking a small flower that was growing down the bench.
"It's Thursday so you know the usual sleepover at Amala's" I replied happily
"Want me to drop you there?" he demanded, giving me the small flower.
"Though you'd never ask, let's go" I answered taking his flower and my bag from under the bench
He threw his arm around my shoulder, laughing slightly as we were walking to his car.
"May I choose the music, Collins?"
"Like I had a choice," he said sarcastically, sitting in front of the wheel.
I put my bag in front of me and started looking for a song on his radio.
Oh, I found a good one. I pressed play and turned to his face to see his reaction as I started slowly to sing the first verse.
I don't need you to sell me on reasons to want you
I don't need you to search for the proof that I should
You don't have to be scared you're not enough
Cause what we've got going is good
- Dear Evan Hansen - Only us
It's our karaoke song.
Not many people knew but Kiaran Collins was a MAJOR fan of musicals like me, but Mister I don't want to ruin my reputation made me swear to secrecy.
I was smiling through the whole thing, waiting for him to join me in the song
"Come on Kiaran"
He looked at me all lovey and started to sing the other part with a small smirk on his face.
OH NO!
WHAT HAVE I DONE?!
Don't look at me like that sir!
I quickly turned my face back on the road as we kept singing the tune.
Look at us, acting as if we were a couple.
Nestled amidst the rolling hills and verdant countryside, Haven Row lay like a hidden gem, its charms obscured from the hurried gaze of passersby. Situated just an hour's journey from the bustling metropolis of Everton, it offered a sanctuary from the frenetic pace of city life.
As the train chugged along its well-worn tracks, I marveled at the ever-changing landscape that unfolded before me. Fields of emerald green stretched out as far as the eye could see, punctuated by the occasional cluster of quaint cottages and rustic farmhouses.
But it was upon reaching Haven Row that the true marvels awaited. A picturesque town with a rich tapestry of history woven into its very fabric, it exuded an air of timeless elegance. Cobblestone streets wound their way through the heart of the town, lined with charming boutiques and cozy cafes that beckoned to weary travelers seeking respite from the rigors of the road.
Yet, despite its small-town charm, Haven Row was no stranger to the cutting edge of fashion. As we made our way through its bustling streets, I couldn't help but marvel at the vibrant tapestry of colors and styles that adorned its denizens. From avant-garde couture to classic elegance, the town was a veritable melting pot of creativity and innovation.
The skyline, once dominated by the spires of ancient churches and stately manor houses, now boasted a new addition: sleek skyscrapers that reached towards the heavens like modern-day monoliths. Each building seemed to tell a story of its own, a testament to the town's evolution from sleepy hamlet to bustling metropolis.
Yet, despite its newfound cosmopolitan allure, Haven Row remained true to its roots. Daily life here was a far cry from the frenetic hustle and bustle of city living. Instead, it was a place of tranquility and serenity, where time seemed to slow to a languid crawl and the worries of the world melted away like snowflakes in the sun.
As we made our way towards Amala's flat, the silence between us was punctuated only by the gentle strains of music drifting from the radio. It was a rare moment of quiet contemplation in a world that never seemed to stop moving, a chance to savor the simple pleasures of companionship and camaraderie amidst the chaos of life.
To Amala: Be there in 5min. K is with me 😊
From Amala: Gottacha', bring him upstairs I want to say hi 😉
"Amala said you have to come in, she wants to say hi," I said my eyes still on my phone.
"Sure," he said with a small smile, eyes on the road.
"It will be quick, don't worry. If you had something else to do you can still do it."
He took a couple of seconds before answering me.
"Yeah, I had a thing with Jo' but you guys are more fun," he said turning slightly his head to me.
We were now in front of Amala's apartment, I turned to him and put my hand gently on the back of his hand with a slight smile.
"Thank you," I said slowly
We looked at each other for a moment, as if time had stopped.
As my fingers grazed the back of his hand, a shiver of electricity danced across my skin, igniting a spark of warmth that lingered long after our touch had faded. His gaze met mine with an intensity that sent my heart racing, a silent exchange of unspoken truths that spoke volumes.
In those fleeting moments, cocooned within the confines of our shared intimacy, time seemed to stand still. It was as if the world around us had faded into oblivion, leaving only the two of us suspended in a delicate dance of desire and longing.
But even as I reveled in the warmth of his touch, a pang of guilt gnawed at the edges of my consciousness. For in the depths of my heart, I knew that he did not belong to me, that his affections were reserved for another.
As his hand found mine, a silent acknowledgment passed between us, a tacit understanding of the boundaries that tethered us to reality. I knew then that I could not allow myself to be consumed by the allure of our forbidden connection, that I must break free from the spell that bound us together.
"We should go," I murmured, my voice barely more than a whisper against the backdrop of our shared silence. With a heavy heart, I tore my gaze away from his, steeling myself for the inevitable return to the harsh realities of the world outside.
He hesitated for a moment, his gaze lingering on mine as if reluctant to let go. But then, with a resigned nod, he acquiesced, bringing the car to a halt with a gentle ease that belied the tumult of emotions raging within us both.
As we stepped out into the cool embrace of the night, I felt the weight of our unspoken desires hang heavy in the air, a silent reminder of the choices that lay before us.
He left his bag in the car, we took my sleeping bag out of the trunk and went inside the flat.
Amala's residence, perched atop the pinnacle of luxury, beckoned like a beacon of opulence amidst the urban sprawl. A sprawling expanse that spanned the entire top floor, her apartment stood as a testament to her status in the world of fashion, a shrine to her impeccable taste and unbridled creativity.
As the elevator whisked us upwards, the anticipation mounted with each passing floor, a palpable energy that crackled in the air. With a soft chime, the doors slid open, revealing a corridor bathed in the soft glow of pristine white neon lights.
We traversed the length of the corridor, our footsteps echoing against the polished marble floors with a sense of reverent awe. Along the way, the walls bore witness to a gallery of modern art and avant-garde sculptures, each piece a testament to Amala's discerning eye for design.
At last, we reached the end of the corridor, where her apartment awaited us like a hidden treasure waiting to be unearthed. The door stood before us, a portal to a world of unparalleled luxury and sophistication.
I knocked on it, we waited a good minute before hearing her come through the door.
She opened the door for us with a huge smile.
"Ah! At last! My wife and the one she's been cheating on me with for so many years" she said with a smirk.
My sister, ladies, and gentlemen.
Kiaran and I looked at each other and laughed, used to my sister's humor.
"You know me Amala, I couldn't resist her," he said winking at me
Oh, keep your winks to yourself Mister I have a girlfriend.
"Come on in," Amala said, laughing lightly.
The interior of the apartment was a symphony of modern elegance and cutting-edge design, a seamless fusion of form and function that spoke volumes of its owner's impeccable taste. From the sleek lines of the designer furniture to the meticulously curated art adorning the walls, every detail had been painstakingly crafted to perfection.
It was as if we had stepped into a living, breathing work of art, a masterpiece that defied description and left me utterly speechless. And as Amala ushered me into her apartment, I couldn't help but feel a sense of privilege at being granted entry into this hallowed sanctuary of style and sophistication.
The living room was found directly to our right, Kiaran and I sat down on her large grey sofa.
Oh, the comfort of that sofa, I'M IN LOVE!
I settled into the plush embrace of the sofa, feeling the soft fabric yield beneath me as I made myself comfortable. With a casual grace, I propped my feet up on Kiaran's legs, the warmth of his body offering a comforting anchor in the sea of uncertainty that swirled around us.
"You know you look like an old couple like this?"Amala teases us.
Amala's teasing remark danced through the air like a playful melody, drawing a light chuckle from my lips. As I began to retract my feet from their impromptu perch, Kiaran's hand pressed firmly against them, a silent gesture that spoke volumes of his unspoken desires.
Caught off guard by the unexpected intimacy of the moment, I found myself at a loss for words, my thoughts swirling in a maelstrom of confusion and longing. But as I met Kiaran's gaze, the unspoken understanding that passed between us filled me with a sense of warmth and reassurance.
Amala, ever perceptive, seemed to sense the tension that hung in the air, her keen gaze probing mine for signs of discomfort. Sensing my hesitation, she deftly changed the subject, steering the conversation towards safer shores.
For the next hour, we whiled away the time in easy conversation, the words flowing effortlessly between us like a lazy river meandering through the landscape of our shared memories and experiences. In Amala's presence, the weight of the world seemed to lift from my shoulders, replaced by a sense of lightness and ease.
But as the evening wore on and the hour grew late, Kiaran's departure loomed on the horizon like a dark cloud. With a heavy heart, he bid us farewell.
Left alone with Amala once more, I felt the weight of my emotions press upon me like a leaden blanket, threatening to suffocate me in their suffocating embrace. As I poured out my heart to her, laying bare the tangled web of emotions that had ensnared me, I couldn't help but feel a pang of resentment towards Kiaran for the turmoil he had wrought upon my fragile heart.
"Don't worry, it will pass, I just didn't want to add any meanness to it. We're barely being reconciled"
"You know what? We're going to take your mind off it tonight, I order us something to eat, and I'll let you choose the movies we will watch later"
"You know we're going to end up with a musical if you let me choose," I said smiling
"I suspected it, "she said laughing, and went to get her phone to call for our orders.
So, I started to look for movies for tonight, I think we will end up watching musicals because I can't seem to find anything good.
I programmed the order of the movies on her TV as Amala came back with some snacks until our meals arrived.
"What did you choose?" she asks me
"Spoilers.." I said with a slight smile, knowing full well that she wasn't too much of a fan of musicals, but she was trying for me.
"We're going to finish in karaoke just so you know," I added as she sat down next to me.
"As if it bothered you"
So, we started our evening with the first two musicals, and as I had planned it quickly turned into karaoke, I took my phone to use it as a microphone and sang each song at the top of my lungs.
Around 10 pm at the end of our third movie, we finished eating and we were cleaning our table before our last movie.
Amala yawned slightly as she walked back to the sofa.
"If you want to go to bed, you can don't worry about me I know you had a big day today," I said
"Sorry, I had a long day and tomorrow is even worse, are you sure you don't mind?" she asked yawning again
"No of course not, you need to rest, and I'll tell you all about the movie tomorrow, good night"
"Goodnight," she said kissing the top of my head and going to her room.
I got back comfortably on the couch and pressed play on the remote to start the movie.
You hear that music in the air?
Take the train to the top of the world
And I'm there
I'm home!
We're home!
- Finale on In the Height
What a good movie!
The credits rolled by on the TV, and I felt so tired.
I felt that my eyelids were getting heavier, I took the remote to turn off the TV and closed all the windows in the living room.
I didn't have a room here but that didn't bother me at all considering the comfort of the sofa, which to be honest was the size of a real queen size bed.
I changed the place of the cushions to sleep more comfortably and settled back on the sofa to finally sleep. I rested my head on the cushion, covered myself with a bed cover, and fell gently into Morpheus' arms.
A strange sensation enveloped me as if the very air around me had taken on a life of its own. The room seemed to spin, my body growing lighter with each passing moment until a gentle breeze whispered across my skin, sending shivers cascading down my spine.
Beneath the thin veil of slumber, I found myself drifting towards wakefulness, my consciousness tethered to the realm of dreams yet teetering on the precipice of reality. With a reluctant sigh, I stirred from my comfortable cocoon, the chill of the wind cutting through the warmth of my sanctuary like a blade.
Slowly, begrudgingly, I cracked open my eyes, the muted glow of moonlight filtering through the darkness casting shadows that danced across the room. Disoriented and more than a little annoyed, I shifted my feet from beneath the covers, the cold seeping into my bones like an unwelcome guest.
Reaching out in search of my phone, I groped blindly in the darkness, my fingers closing around empty air. Panic threatened to bubble to the surface as I surveyed my surroundings, the realization dawning upon me like a bolt from the blue.
I was no longer in Amala's living room.
Instead, I found myself sprawled upon the damp grass of a breathtaking garden, the inky darkness punctuated by the eerie glow of black flowers that bloomed like twisted sentinels in the moonlight. My attire, once a comfortable nightgown, had transformed into a long black gown that billowed around me like a shroud, its fabric whispering secrets of a world beyond my comprehension.
With a sense of bewilderment, I rose to my feet, the cool touch of the grass sending shivers cascading down my spine. Before me loomed a magnificent castle, its imposing silhouette etched against the canvas of the night sky like a dark promise waiting to be fulfilled.
As I took in the surreal landscape that stretched out before me, a sense of wonder and awe washed over me like a tidal wave. This was no mere dream; it was a journey into the heart of a realm beyond imagination, a place where magic and reality converged in a symphony of enchantment.
As I ventured forth into this fantastical garden, the air thick with the scent of night-blooming flowers and the promise of adventure, I knew that this was only the beginning of a journey that would take me to the very edges of my imagination and beyond.
I dared not go any further out of fear of bursting the magnificent bubble.
"Lady Blackfield?" called a male voice behind me
I wanted to turn so badly to that voice, to see who was speaking but I felt an obstacle that didn't let me move anymore and all of a sudden I felt something pinching my arm.
"Amirah!"
"Amirah! Come on!"
"Amirah! Wake up, Kiaran will be coming soon to take you to Uni " a voice said to me which I recognized to be Amala's after a few seconds.
I opened my eyes and stood up in shock, I was again in Amala's living room but the time the day had dawned.
What the hell just happened?
Who was the voice calling me?
Blackfield?
So many questions went through my head at once. I shook my head slightly and went to the bathroom to wash my face with chilly water.
It was just a dream.
Nothing but a dream.