As the ‘dream’ started I felt the tension leave me; I knew this dream it was safe. A girl walked down the path that went out from the garden table and meandered into the field of poppies. She was short, with blond hair and a plump round face. She was not very pretty, but I couldn’t take my eyes off her, she was the only thing of colour in this black and red world. I followed her, I don’t know if I walked or floated, but I followed her. She picked poppies as she walked and made them into a bunch, then she spun around making her skirt flare out around her ankles, it reminded me of a girl from the village, she had just gotten married and was always smiling, but never happier than when she was on her way home. Carefree, with the whole world at her feet. I had tried to talk to this apparition, [this ghost] before, but if she could hear or see me, she gave no sign; almost like she was an echo of the past, that I could observe but not effect. We reached the end of the path and turned back. I didn’t have to look, I had seen it all before, it was almost imperceptible but already her dress was starting to fade, and her walk was getting slower, I wished I knew what these ‘dreams’ were! I would feel more comfortable knowing that these, ghosts, were just figments of my mind, inventions that I brought out to entertain myself. But I wasn’t sure, most of the time I could convince myself, but now and then they seemed more than that, like they were real people, real places. We had reached the garden again and she began to walk round the garden table. There was no mistaking it now, her dress was faded, and her face, looked like it was melting slightly, the details becoming less distinct. Only the eyes remained the same, bright, blue and, oh, so alive. The garden seemed to get darker and the poppies shone red. And then, everything faded and I was awake again, awake and alone, except for Toms’ immobile figure. I went back to the table and stared at the pieces of the mirror again, it was the key out of here, I was sure of that. But it was so far from being done! More than that, I wasn’t even sure that I had all the pieces; when we had arrived in the garden the pieces had been airborne and I still wasn’t sure how far they had gone, I had found most of them around the table, but who knew, they could have flown anywhere. It seemed so much effort to fix the mirror, and for what, where would it lead? I put my head in my hands, I wished I would stop ‘dreaming’ about people! I wished I could just dream about colours; colours slowly merging and changing, a bright spectrum of light! When it happened it was utter bliss, you didn’t have to think, you could just get lost in it, lost in the ever-changing colours. But I got that type of dream less and less, most often I saw the girl, but there were others, there was the young man with the old eyes. He stood out in my mind and I didn’t know why, he didn’t move much just sat there looking out at the garden with those, slightly dead eyes! When he did walk it was slow and plodding, I honestly don’t know why he gave me the creeps like he did, I shivered and came back to the dull red world that was reality. I found Scar standing next to the table with a broken bit of mirror in his mouth, he had taken to looking for them recently. I was glad. At least in this garden there seemed no way to gain experience points, so there was no need to worry about the ferret would going feral. I took the piece of mirror and started the long process of trying to find where it went. The only thing to help me was that the mirror was not uniform in its thickness, [the top of the mirror was narrower/thinner than the bottom] this meant I could narrow down where the piece might go. It just took time, so much time. On the other hand, I had so much time! At last, I found it; two pieces that went together! I smiled, they fitted perfectly. I reached out and plucked one of the nearby flowers, I had discovered that you could make the flowers ‘bleed’ a weird red pasty substance. It wasn’t a perfect substitute for glue, but it was the best I had!

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

I groaned; it was my father again. I didn’t want to look at him, he was the only ghost that I recognised, and the only one that spoke. I had started to wonder if he wasn’t a personification of a part of my mind that I was too stubborn to listen to. He sat down across from me with his disapproving look. “Well? You got yourself here!” he said at last, “I’ll get myself out too” I said, the anger was welling up again, he sighed at me and then said, “you always believed you were the exception; you could never just accept the hand you were dealt, you always had to grasp for something more. Did you ever stop and wonder what would happen if you failed, if you over balanced while reaching for your goal?” he shook his head sadly, as he started to fade, “I wanted so much more for you… an ordinary life can still be a good one…” his voice trailed off and grew fainter as he faded out of existence. I struggled up, and swayed over to the table, I was going to finish this bloody mirror, if only to show that I could.

The mirror crept on, piece by piece, shard by shard, it took shape and grew, and the pile of broken bits dwindled. It felt like it took years, but how long it actually took I have no idea. But at last I looked down at my handy work, and there were three pieces left, only three, and it would be done! I looked over at Tom, I had better try and get him awake! I didn’t know what was waiting on the other side but it would be better to have him as awake as possible for it.

The last piece was in, and the world turned, and I felt that dropping feeling in my stomach, we were out!