"No, please don't leave me. Stay with me!"

She groaned, rustling in her sleep. Her forehead was beaded with sweat. She was having the same nightmare again. Astoria always had trouble sleeping because, on most nights, she would have the same nightmare of a man dying in her arms. It was a man whose face she could never decipher and whose voice always broke her heart.

"Somebody, help me!" she screamed as she looked at the creatures surrounding her.

"Hey, look at me, okay. Do not close your eyes, please!" she begged him.

"I'm sorry, Astoria," the man rasped, his breathing becoming more and more unsteady with every passing minute.

She looked at the man on the ground, his face a blur. She held him tightly as if she was scared that he would disappear if she let go. He looked at her, eyes full of sadness as he lifted his index finger to wipe away the tears that ran down her cheeks. She felt devastated. She should have tried harder to protect him.

Moreover, to protect her people. Why did it have to end like this? This was definitely her fault, and now, because of her actions and incompetence, she would lose the one person she cared about the most in this world. She was going to lose the one person who had faith in her. She was going to lose her people and kingdom.

"I love you," he said softly.

Those were his final words as he lightly caressed her cheek. With that, his hand slowly fell to the ground. His body lay lifeless in her arms. This was what she was dreading the most. The one thing she did not want to ever encounter in this world and lifetime.

Feeling as though all the oxygen was knocked out of her body, tears rolled down her cheeks as she screamed in pure agony. Her heart ached at the loss of him. The one person she truly loved was now gone forever, and it was all her fault.

She woke up with a start, her heart thumping loudly and rapidly. The night was silent and filled with the occasional sound of cars passing by the neighbourhood. She clutched her shirt as she recalled the nightmare she had just encountered. It all seemed too vivid as if it had actually happened or was going to happen.

She quickly got up, her legs shaking and weak. She tried her best to walk towards the fridge and get a glass of cold water to fully wake herself up and maybe clear the shock she had just experienced. Walking outside, she sat on the outside bench.

She hoped that the cold air would cool down the excessive heat from her body and decrease the rate of her beating heart. She sighed as she looked up to the sky, counting the stars as a form of distraction. This was not the first time she had encountered something like this. It's been happening for as long as she could remember, the same nightmare replaying almost every night, repetitively.

"Just what is going on with me?" she asked no one in particular as she crouched her head.

She had brought her phone with her, checked the time, saw that it was 8:15 p.m., and decided that she needed to leave the house and have some fun. Maybe that would clear her mind. Her best option was to go clubbing. She searched through her wardrobe as she looked for something to wear.

Finally, she saw a comfortable outfit and placed it on her bed, and took a quick shower. She decided to wear a light pink tight skirt with a long black sleeve transparent shirt and a black bra.

She finished the outfit off with ebony wood-heeled combat boots, quickly brushed her black hair, and put on some light makeup. Scanning herself in the full-length mirror, she decided that she was ready to leave. She hailed a taxi and arrived at her destination.

"Thank you, sir," she said as she handed the driver the fee.

He smiled and took off. She turned to look at the building of the club, Club Owl. This club was situated downtown and was well known as a club operated from 6 p.m. to 4 a.m. It was trendy amongst young adults and businessmen.

It had private rooms that could accommodate more than ten people. She smiled as she walked past the bouncer and into the club. She was immediately hit with flashing lights, the sound of loud music, laughter, and swarms of bodies dancing the night away.

"Hey, Jigger," she grinned as she sat on the barstool.

"Chambers, the usual?" he asked.

She nodded. She has known Jigger for the past two years. He was, and still is, a great friend and has many side jobs. Being a bartender was one of those jobs. She watched him as he turned his back towards her, grabbing a wine glass from one of the cabinets.

He turned towards her and smiled. He began mixing the drinks, which amazed her every time as he always looked so professional. He finished mixing the drinks and handed her the margarita.

"Tough day?" he asked her, a look of worry on his face.

Not responding immediately, she drank her margarita and asked him to bring her shots. Jigger watched her as she downed the shots in a few seconds, her throat burning at the sensation of the cold liquid.

She sighed and looked at him, her head titled and supported with her left hand. She signalled him to bring her more shots, to which he said he could only give her four as he was now starting to worry about her even more.

She pouted and batted her eyelashes to try and persuade him. However, her plan backfired as he did not budge. Usually, she would go to the club if she felt anxious or distraught because of her nightmares. He knew about them and, judging from the calculating look on his face, she could tell that he knew she had another nightmare.

"You don't know the half of it," she said as she drank her margarita with a heavy heart.