The wind was hallowing through the streets like wolves to the moon. High above her stars were flickering in the sleek black sky and ashen grey clouds were rolling in from over the hills. Icy wind nipped at Charlie's bare skin. She shivered uncontrollably, wrapping her arms around her self to keep warm but the frigid temperature shuck her to the core.
Charlie Arien stood alone and confused in the center of a cemetery she knew she had never been to before then. Looking around she sank down on her knees to the damp earth. All around her the protruding shapes of tombstones rose up from the fog covered ground. It reminded her of a scene from one of those bad horror films her father made her watch over the years.
Then something stirred behind her. She was frozen, rooted to the place where she knelt. The condensation from the grass soaked the knees of her jeans and ran ice cold fingers up and down her bones.
Charlie looked over her shoulder hesitantly to see a dark figure standing at the edge of the cemetery outlined by the rising moon. She drew in a sharp breath when her gaze feel upon it's eyes. They reminded her of twin sapphires, glowing as if they created their own light. Even with the growing moonlight Charlie couldn't make out any distinguishing features of the figure. Except for those eyes.
A little shaky Charlie got up on her feet. The piercing eyes followed her. The wind picked up sending her long golden hair flying freely around her like a cyclone. It suddenly dawned on her she didn't remember how she got there. With her gaze fixed on the electric blue eyes Charlie tried to recall the last thing she could remember. Sleeping.
There was a strange whirring sound and her feet flew out from under her. A rush of familiar smells swirled up around her. Finally Charlie felt the warm snug sensation of her own bed. Sweat plastered her hair to her neck. When she sat up her stomached heaved and she grew dizzy. Fumbling for a moment she clicked on the table lamp next to the bed. She was still in her street close, the knees of her jeans soaking wet, and was tangled in the sheets.
An unease settled over her. Suddenly the stark silence of her room seemed to collapse in on Charlie. She felt oddly claustrophobic. Trying to shake her mind of what she conceived as a grief induced dream she flicked on the television still seeing the terrifyingly bright eyes in the back of her mind.
It had felt so real. Every whip of the wind, the cold bitter air on her skin, the whisper of the branches of the tall pines, and most of all the overcoming sense of his presence.