I knelt on the floor, strange words echoing through my head. I could almost see the colorful smoke solidifying, but the images they formed were incomprehensible. I shut my eyes tighter, focusing my thoughts on the dream. The dream that had jolted me out of my sleep, and the dream that I could not for the life of me remember.
After a few minutes I gave up. Sighing, I slumped back on the white wall of my bedroom, my eyes flitting up to the full length mirror on the opposite side. I caught my reflection in it. Though it was dark I could see the blotchy skinned girl with a long tangle of raven black hair staring back out at me. Whatever moonlight filtered through the bars of the windows highlighted my tired eyes and quivering lips. I stood up, my violet dress sweeping the wooden floorboards and made my way to the mirror.
I would've been pretty, I thought to myself. If only I was a bit more tall, tan and less pudgy. I looked into the clear crystal blue of my eyes, my only redeeming feature. I looked deep into those eyes. I could read the dreams of others. Why could I not read my own?
Suddenly, I remembered. The only reason I could not access that dream was because I did not want to. Somehow my subconscious had blocked it. Why? Why would I do that unless it was a nightmare?What had I seen?
Curiosity gripped me. Turning from the mirror, I made my way to the wooden shelf, where the I kept the potions. I pulled out a crystal vial from the back and drained the blue contents into a silver cup. Slowly, I raised it to my lips and began to drink. As I drank, I could feel the veil of confusion lifting. I could see now, that dream as clear as day.
The potion was taking its effect, and I felt my knees trembling. Though I fell to the floor, my mind was only on the dream playing itself in my mind. I saw myself in a little black dress, making my way across a moonlit balcony. Fingerless black gloves covered my hands and my dark hair billowed in the chilly air. Slow, soft music played in the background. The scene shifted and I found myself dancing. Dancing in the arms of a stranger.
I couldn't see his face, but I could feel his warm breath on me. His strong hands were wrapped around my figure making me feel safe, even wanted. As the music began to come to an end everything began to fade, until I was left alone on the balcony.
Again, the scene shifted, and this time it was of the school. In a large hall, there were people dancing. Couples laughing and smiling, drowning in each other's presence. I looked around for my handsome stranger, but he was no to be found. I stood there in my little black dress, wishing I could dance, as people swirled around, happy faces and light laughter all blurring into one. I stood there alone, wishing I could go back to the balcony. Wishing somebody would love me too.
I woke up in a cold sweat on the wooden floor of my bedroom. After three deep breaths I sat up reflecting on that dream. Not a dream, I reminded myself. A nightmare. Slowly I lifted the silver cup from where it had fallen from the floor. Maybe some myrrh syrup would ease the throbbing in my chest. Getting up to my feet, I decided against it. No, not myrrh syrup. A glass of cold water would do the trick