Tuesday, November 22, 2016

The Dream

The lights were blinding and confusing. Amanda nearly fell over when the lights swerved to her right. The squealing of the tires was deafening. Four women got out of the vehicle almost at the same time. Three of them were frantically talking to each other and her, but none of them made any sense. The fourth had a cellphone to her ear, practically screaming into it. It seemed that everything happened in snapshots.

Amanda looked towards the vehicle, not making out what it was. She saw a shadow pass in front of the lights. Soon afterward, Amanda felt a blanket draped over her shoulders.

She remembered how soft it felt on her skin. She put her hand to her head and felt tired. Falling to her knees, she looked at her hand. It was full of blood. Then she noticed her necklace and clutched the pendant as everything started to fade.


The alarm woke her up with a start. It was the same dream she frequently had since that fateful evening. According to the detective, it was similar to the stories that were given by the four witnesses. The four women that she saw in her dream.

Amanda sat up in bed and grabbed the pendant that hung at the end of the necklace. It was in the form of a woman, in a flowing dress. Her hair was permanently blowing in the wind, and she held out her right hand as if beckoning.

No one could figure out exactly who it was. One of the nurses thought it was the Virgin Mary. It was not surprising as that nurse was also a nun. Someone who shared a room with her for one night thought it was a Wiccan goddess or maybe an angel.

The detective, assigned to her case,  had the neckless evaluated and saw that it was a custom piece giving some hope to solving the case. In the end, it proved futile. No one came forward to claim the piece as their work of art, and every custom jeweler shop within a hundred of miles didn’t turn up any information.

Years later, she sat in her therapist's office.

"It the first time I saw the necklace in the dream," she said after she told her therapist the dream.

"It's something," he responded, “but after three years, I’m not sure if you will remember much more than that." He stood up and looked at her file. "You don't have to come here unless you think need to talk to someone. You are perfectly stable."

Amanda sighed. It had been three years since she was found naked, in the middle of the road, cold and confused with a major concussion. She was beginning to give up hope to have any of her memories.

"Are there other dreams you want to talk about?"

"Other than flying around in space and shooting aliens?" Amy responded with a chuckle, "Or perhaps I can tell you about the dream I had with the ability to move objects with my mind."

“Do you know that you are dreaming?” The therapist asked after chuckling.

Amanda sighed again. “Most of the time, not until I’ve reached the end. I seem to be falling in a ball of fire. My dreams always seem to end in a ball of fire.”

The therapist shifted in his chair. It was unusual for someone to have the same dream over and over again like that, but it has been known to happen from time to time.

"Perhaps I should turn my dreams into a book," Amanda said thoughtfully. "If I put them in the right order, it may make a good story."

“You know,” the therapist said, “That may be a good idea. Writing is known to be therapeutic. Let me know when it is finished, and I'll buy a copy. I'm into sci-fi."

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