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Some dreams transcend the boundaries of the subconscious, becoming so tangible, so intrinsically woven into the fabric of one's existence, that to dismiss them as mere fantasy would be to deny a fundamental truth. Such has been the nature of my connection to the woman I have seen in these dreams - a luminous figure whose presence has haunted me, even when her face remained obscured by the mists of the unconscious.
In those fleeting, ephemeral moments, she has been a constant companion, her golden hair catching the light, her full lips parting to form words that stirred something deep within me. I can almost feel the gentle caress of her fingers, the warmth of her touch igniting a connection that defies explanation. The soft floral scent that clings to her, the way her gaze seems to reach into the very depths of my soul - it all feels so achingly real, as if she has been a part of me all along.
Yet, until now, I had resigned myself to the belief that she was nothing more than a figment of my imagination, a dream-like vision conjured by the restless workings of my mind. But the certainty that now settles within me, hard and undeniable, shatters that illusion. This woman, this Valerie, is real. I have seen her, heard her voice, felt her presence - not just in the recesses of my mind, but in the tangible world that surrounds me.
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"That was Valerie..." I murmured, the name scraping against my raw throat. My own voice sounded foreign, low and strained. "I've seen her more times than I've seen my own reflection," I muttered, the anger and wonder knotting together, refusing to untangle. "Why do I remember her? Why do I have these memories?"
Slowly, I raised my eyes to meet my mother's. Lyna's face was ashen, crumpling like paper under the weight of unspoken truths. Her hand drifted up to the pendant around her neck, fingers curling around it, as if seeking protection. Her voice trembled, barely above a whisper. "Because...we did something."
The words hung in the air, heavy with the secrets she had buried so deep they were nearly invisible, save for the way they haunted her eyes.
I felt my fists clench, nails digging sharply into calloused skin. The sting grounded me, but did nothing to steady the chaos churning within. Tension coiled in my muscles as I took a step forward, my voice low, the fury seeping out like poison. "What did you do?"
The question pierced the thick silence, cutting as deep as the betrayal taking root in my chest.
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