Lately her dreams had gotten more and more realistic. She dreamt of the good and the bad in her life, of thw universe and the planets. Usually, her dreams were abstract and without any anchor in reality. But lately, that had changed. Her mind had changed.
She had always been told, our dreams reflect our minds and let us cope with what we're dealing with during the day. They were supposed to be a valve, a mechanism to store memories and live through them again. But for her, they had always been... Weird. Most of them she couldn't even remember. But when she did, she woke up and thought, what the ever loving fuck was that. And when that happened, she wrote them down. Every single story is a dream. She didn't even know why she wrote them down, for everyone to see. But sometimes it helped her thinking, and so she did. She made them eternal and immortal.
But lately, her dreams were so vivid and real, they dealt with everything that had happened in the last few days. They scared her. Usually, she had been able to flee reality into her dreams, a few hours of blissfull numbness. But now, her fears and thoughta followed her. She woke up sweating, scared to bits, and couldn't shake them off. She stopped writing them down. She was glad if she could just forget. But then, he appeared in her dream.
He, her love. He, her boyfriend. And he helped her through the dreams. He was real, he was vivid, but he was there to comfort, not to scare. He held her tight and whispered words of ease in her ear. And so, she didn't want to forget anymore. She started writing.