A comfortable quiet had settled over the table as her family ate dinner prepared and served by the maids. Strelitzia found nothing amiss as she glimpses up at her mother and father. It was only in the privacy of their home where she would catch rare moments of affection between them, her parent's clasped hands sitting atop the table, matching set of rings on display for all to see.
The wall to wall bay windows were cracked ajar to let in the early evening breeze coasting up to them from the tumbling clouds dyed in soft shades of pink from the setting crimson moon. This is where she'd spent all of her life going through the usual routine; it meant comfort, safety, and most of all love. Something she never felt that she'd been missing out on with Charlotte's over the top enthusiasm that never seemed to dwindle for having a child and Rogan's steadfast sternly figure.
Strelitzia kept her elbows from the table, resting her hands in her lap between bites to enjoy the certainty of routine. But hadn't she always wanted more? Though she couldn't quite place why. Everything was in its place so she was confused why at the bottom of her heart lingered feelings that what she saw wasn't quite right.
Rogan sneered at her from across the table as he ate, his face twisted into a grouchy mess.
"Quit staring at her." Charlotte said as she cut into her steak. "You don't understand anyone and always are quick judge. Even your own daughter."
Rogan let his silverware drop and clatter before turning his stare at his wife. "I've been splitting my hands and wearing down my back for this family, especially for her. Give me some Goddamn respect."
Charlotte gasped, placing a hand to her chest, looking offended. "R-Rogan!"
Rogan leaned back. "Don't Rogan me. I'm tired."
"She doesn't mean it. What do you keep acting like she's... She's-"
"Go on! Say it!" Rogan encouraged angrily.
"She's-" Charlotte stuttered again.
"A monster?" Rogan finished.
"She is not!" Yelled Charlotte from across the table.
"She killed ten cats and eight cows. Tell me they were all by accident. Because they weren't. That thing will murder us in our sleep. Me sleeping with my eyes open will make no difference."
"They came back to life, she's a miracle." Argued Charlotte.
"Does it change the fact she exploded them first!?" Rogan slammed a hand down onto the table.
Charlotte stood up and slapped Rogan across the face with her plate. It broke in half. "It shows she has sympathy, unlike you who sits here and says this shi- crap in front of a child."
"You're mad!" Rogan cried out, Blood streaming down the side of his face. "You control yourself this instance!"
"Apologize! You can't say these things. That messes a kid up. You're her father. You should love her no matter what!" Tears were in her eyes.
Rogan bared his teeth. "That thing isn't my daughter! Out of all the things you could've called daughter, a pig or wolf would've been far better than her." He stood up and stormed out the room, yelling, "Clean this mess up."
Charlotte rushed over to Strelitzia and pulled her into a hug, weeping. "I'm so, so, so, sorry." She sniffled. "This won't happen again. He's just upset and scared. He acts like this over things he can't control or see into the future."
The scene flickered and Charlotte vanished. Rogan stood there with grey dead eyes. "I gave you a chance and you got me killed!"
Anger and shame weighed on her. She wanted to reach out and comfort her father but he would have only recoiled. Even though her mother assured her time and time again that he loves her, the hatred and fear in his eyes said otherwise.
There was so much conviction in his gaze that she felt compelled to apologize regardless of whether or not she'd actually done anything. She wasn't even sure of what he was accusing her of. Never once had she wanted anyone to get hurt.
"I'm sorry father. I didn't mean for this to happen. I'm sorry." Strelitzia took a step closer as if to hug him. She was but a child wanting the love and reassurance of her parent.
"You are cursed." He pointed a finger at her from across the room. Her mother reappeared, opening her arms with a reassuring smile. But before Strelitzia could come into her embrace, she exploded. Guts and chunks of flesh clung to the walls and herself. An arm and foot landed on her dinner plate.
"Strelitzia!" Someone yelled. "Strelitzia! Give me my daughter! Give her to me!" The voice faded and then dark hands arose from the ground and a pair of crimson eyes, burning brought peeked through the gloom. A wicked smile spread across a mouth cut open from cheek to cheek.
"Come here child. Commme heeeere." Legs bent forward over the head like thousands of spider legs skittering, hairy with white pimple bumps oozing pus. "I'll solve your problem."
The dream split on half with golden light and shifted to someone screaming. The room turned into a field outside a house. Smoke rose into the night air, clouding it like steam but it was from fire. "Help me! Help me!"
She could see James fighting against people holding him back. No longer was she a child, she was grown and with her own memories.
Strelitzia rushed over to him, pushing past the people who tried to hold him back. With the shift in dreams came clarity and understanding. Something she hadn't had while awake. Things she never remembered, feelings that had come and go fleetingly, inexplicable regret for things she hadn't known had even happened. Like knocking James unconscious with a stick sending him straight back into nightmares that he didn't even know he could escape.
When she reached him, her arms wound around his waist in a close embrace because she knew he was fighting to save someone who was already lost. In the precious memories they shared she could remember what he told her about his sister and how he couldn't save her.
Even someone who seemed selfless clung onto blame for something that had never been their burden to bear. Just as she had when he first awoke, her hands cupped his face, forcing his gaze on her instead of the blazing inferno behind her. "James, this is just a dream. Look at me."
Strelitzia smiled sadly, thumbs brushing his cheeks trying to get him to focus on anything other than despair he was feeling. It was palpable in every wave of flames that caused a brush of heat against them, and every helpless scream that echoed into the night. "This isn't real James. Think of something nice. You can do it. Focus on something peaceful. Like tea or flowers or music." She urged once more.
James yelling quieted down, voice slightly hoarse with more tears rolling down his eyes. "It's real. Look at her." He nodded his head in her direction with terror swimming in his eyes.
His sister's screams had quieted, skin streaming down her arms like melted wax before turning blacker than the midnight sky. By the times the flames died down, her flesh was hardened—coal with bright glowing red lining the cracks.
His bottom lip wobbled and he fell to his knees as the men released him. "She's gone. I-I don't have anyone. My father, then my mother, now her? I don't, I don't know where my brother went." He sobbed so hard his shoulders shook, snot pooling down his nose, a little spit beading his mouth. Raking his fingertips across the ground left them bloody at their tips.
She knelt down before him, refusing to let the sorrow consume him once more. They already lived through the horrors that dredged up in their subconscious minds. They'd dealt with the grief and pain for long enough that it wasn't fair to force them to live it once more. Even if it was only a dream.
Strelitzia used her sleeves to wipe the spot streaked tears from his face before swiping a thumb across his nose. They hadn't known each other long and their time together had been brief but she was still compelled to empathize. The young woman picked up his hands in a stern yet gentle grip, giving his hands gentle squeezes. She pulled him in to wrap her arms around him once more, letting his head rest against her shoulder.
"Morning light never twinkled bright on the hills of the place I grew up from. Darkness sat upon the horizon, taking and taking whatever its hands could hold, leaving a young lorwell boy all alone~" Her voice rang high and sweet, each pause punctuated by his wracking sobs. She still remembered every note she heard him sang that night hoping to stir some kind of realization for him. If only it would stir him to remember that day where they sat with one another playing his guitar with his hands guiding her own to every string.
James hand lifted to cup the back of her own, and when he closed his eyes the world filled with warm golden light that came from within. The entire world fell apart, twisting and reforming around them into something more beautiful. The forest glowed blue from the bioluminescent plants all around them. There were other colors of yellow, green, and purple. Down near the forest and where a waterfall spilled from above into a larger body of water was a small cottage.
"Thank you." He said, slipping his hand off of hers. "I didn't know I could change my dreams to this extent." Then his brows furrowed. "How does one help you after cracking you in the head with a branch. Am I still alive or did you kill me?"
A blush rose to her cheeks and she laughed nervously, scratching the back of her neck. "Hah well, you know...I uh, well I heard this voice telling me to knock you unconscious and I couldn't do anything else." She scooted back to put a little distance between them. "Sorry. You're very much alive. Nadlak stopped me from doing any more damage and Baeron is healing you. Lucky for you these toothpick arms can't hit very hard."