Somewhere in the heart of Los Angeles, a slender petite figure found herself in a constant battle with the monstrous king-size bed. She thrashed and turned, like a wrestler grappling with invisible opponents, desperately seeking the perfect position for a peaceful slumber. The restless ballet continued for what seemed like an eternity, as she flipped and flopped with the grace of a contortionist.
Fed up with her wrestling match, she exploded in frustration, flinging a pillow across the room with all her might. With a heavy sigh that could have blown out candles in the neighboring county, she finally succumbed to the weariness and drifted into a fitful sleep.
In the depths of her subconscious, a vivid dream unfurled. Once again, she found herself locked in a mesmerizing encounter with a mysterious young woman. This mysterious figure's story unfolded before her eyes, a tale so captivating that she felt compelled to recount it as though she were living it herself.
The black woman's face remained frustratingly elusive, like trying to catch a glimpse of a fleeting ghost. Yet, she had become intimately familiar with her essence, witnessing the trials and triumphs that spanned her entire existence. From her struggles as an aspiring artist, yearning for the validation of her family, to her audacious defiance of societal norms as a pioneering working woman, and even her time as a soldier haunted by the haunting specters of depression and PTSD. Happiness seemed to elude her, as if she were a relentless force on a mission, leaving little room for her own joy. But in this new chapter of her life, a glimmer of happiness emerged. A steadfast best friend who cared deeply, a doting yet feigning indifference of a great-grandmother, a fulfilling job that sparked her passion—her life appeared to sail smoothly, free from the relentless intervention of the supernatural. Alas, it was a fragile respite, for storms of change loomed on the horizon, threatening to turn her world utterly upside down. The tempest had already begun, and it was merely the tip of an iceberg that concealed untold challenges.
In this particular dream sequence, the woman lay helpless on a cold hospital bed, her vulnerability palpable. A shadowy figure hovered ominously above her, whispering incomprehensible words into her ears. Intrigued, our protagonist inched closer, desperate to decipher the cryptic messages being shared. However, as her presence was sensed, the cloaked figure abruptly vanished into thin air, leaving her startled and yelping in terror, disturbing the once-peaceful slumber of the patient.
"Who are you?" the lady on the bed inquired, her voice laced with curiosity and a tinge of trepidation.
Startled herself, the dream-walker stumbled backward, a rare occurrence in the realm of her dreams. Could it be that she was not only able to see this mysterious woman but also interact with her?
"You can see me?" she asked, a mix of confusion and disbelief clouding her expression. Such an encounter had never transpired in her dreamscapes before—she was always a silent observer, invisible to all within.
Furrowing her brow, the lady on the bed offered a warm smile, masking her own bewilderment. "Well, I didn't take a bullet to the eye. Are you a new nurse here? You seem unfamiliar."
Caught off guard, the dream-walker responded hesitantly, "No, I'm not... I don't know."
"Fair enough. It's alright if you prefer to keep your secrets," the lady replied, her voice brimming with understanding. "So, what brings you here? Are you searching for answers too, to my abnormality?"
With a newfound sense of intrigue and trepidation intertwining within her, Dion mustered the courage to share, "I'm Dion, and... I'm here because... I'm drawn to you. My dreams are entwined with your existence."
The mysterious lady gave her a skeptical look and look at her like she was crazy. "Well if my protective friend let you in here then you mustn't be a threat. I'm Alora, Alora Smith. Nice to meet your acquaintance.