Tomorrow is going to be a good day," I said to myself before lying down in bed. I wasn't very sure about that statement, but it was supposed to be a special day for me.

Thanks to my lousy social skills, I still had several issues with loneliness and exclusion. Fortunately, I was nearing the end of my high school journey, desperately hoping for a fresh start where I could finally find my place and break free from this perpetual isolation. Besides, it hadn't been more than a year and a half since my father, Victor Morfeo, passed away. I hadn't gotten over it until today. Losing someone important to you is like losing a part of your soul. Since then, living had been unbearable, and I had been trying to stay positive, hoping that someday everything would get better and I would stop feeling so... insignificant.

I adjusted my blankets and soon felt exhaustion taking away my consciousness.

"Huh?"

I looked around and found myself in a field of flowers. "Wow, where am I... And what a beautiful place!"

In the distance, I saw a little girl with red hair walking. She had her back turned to me, so I couldn't see her face.

"Hey!" I shouted, hoping she would stop and turn around, but nothing happened. Aren't people in the dream world supposed to be polite?!

I ran towards her, but everything around me went dark, and I realized I was somewhere else. It was an old corridor filled with framed paintings up to the ceiling and several doors. Could it be a mansion? It was so dark, abandoned, and eerie. I realized I had a lantern in one of my hands, but the light was dim. "Oh... So scary! It feels like an old horror movie..."

I heard footsteps from the other end of the corridor and ran in the opposite direction of the noise without even thinking twice. I had had nightmares of being chased before, so it had become instinctual. I took several turns in the corridors until I stopped in a huge room with elegant sofas, a massive carpet, and an old fireplace.

Next to the fireplace, there was a large painting of a woman with red hair, surrounded by other paintings of people. The sound of footsteps had ceased, so why not snoop around? I brought the lantern closer to see better, but the painting was blurred, as if it had been painted by someone nearsighted. Is there any chance it's the same girl from the flower field before? There was a golden plaque beneath the frame, but there was nothing written on it. Shouldn't there be a name there? This is the featured painting. Does the mansion belong to her? I glanced at the smaller paintings around. There was one with another young redhead, but her hair was in a bun. I read her plaque, and her name was Arabella. But I froze for a moment when I saw her last name, Morfeo.

That. Was. My. Last. Name!

I felt a chill, but then I remembered that dreams often include things you've already seen. A last name is something that's always with you, so it makes sense to dream about it. As for the girl in the painting, maybe she's a stranger I saw passing by on the street or something similar. I've heard that we dream about faces we've seen at least once in our lives.

I focused on the other paintings; they all depicted young people with the last name Morfeo. Strange, but if we dream about familiar people and here there are a lot of people with my last name, could I... see my father somewhere?

My heart raced at the thought, and I quickly moved to other corridors, inspecting each of the paintings.

"I can't believe it!" I found him.

He was young in the painting, but I would recognize his features anywhere. I read the plaque, Victor Alan Morfeo.

"I miss you, Dad..." Tears formed a waterfall on my face until I noticed an empty painting next to him, and there were no more paintings after that. Strange, there was a plaque on this blank painting.

"Angela Zara Morfeo...?"

What?

The blank canvas turned dark, just like the background of the other paintings. As if a ghost was drawing, strokes of color started appearing on the painting until it formed a portrait of me. Short black hair with the ends curved outward, gray eyes, and a neutral expression. I've always thought I had a plain appearance.

"Bizarre..." I stared at my portrait; it was a perfect copy of myself.

I heard faint giggles coming from the direction of the corridor I came from. Damn, whoever it is, they followed me. However, there was no one in the corridor. I shuddered... The people in the paintings who were previously facing forward were now all looking at me.

"What the heck…?" Cowardly, I risked looking at my own painting again. The Angela in the painting was now staring at me with a sinister smile.

Run.

That's all that came to mind. I bet I could compete with a leopard, considering the speed I reached.

"No running in the corridors," echoed a female voice.

"I'm... too cute... to die!" I shouted with the little breath I had left.

This will definitely go down as one of the weirdest nightmares I've ever had.

I heard footsteps behind me, and I quickly realized that the corridor was a dead end. Or at least I think it was; maybe that door at the end of the corridor isn't locked.

Desperately, I turned the doorknob, and the door opened. I entered, and there was no key to lock it from the other side. I leaned against the door, using my own body to keep it closed.

The person who was chasing me must be furious. There were sporadic knocks and attempts to break down the door. I almost fell, but I managed to keep it shut.

Once the commotion stopped, I collapsed to my knees on the floor. It was too much adrenaline for little Angela here. I threw myself onto the dream bed, still panting. It was strange that I could feel everything I touched perfectly. Was it a lucid dream?

"But I could see a painting of my father... It wasn't so bad after all."

Glass half full, Angela, think positive.

Was he really like that when he was a teenager? He was handsome; Mom was lucky. I hope the beauty genes will benefit me someday too.

After resting for a while, I got up and went to examine the room. "Not bad, a beautiful haunted room."

I could tell it was a female room. Maybe it would be really pretty if it were cleaner and neater.

My curiosity was screaming, so I took a look at all the furniture. The drawers of the dressing table were filled with jewelry, yay!

I tried on some pieces and admired myself in the mirror.

"Elegant!" I exclaimed, looking down to choose more jewelry that was on top of the table when a hand grabbed my wrist. It was the hand of my own reflection.

I screamed and struggled, unintentionally hitting my elbow on the lantern that was on the edge of the furniture, causing it to shatter on the floor.

The room went completely dark, and I stared at the mirror, where my reflection's eyes were glowing ominously.

"Your time has come. Are you ready?" The entity in the mirror spoke in a gentle tone, which actually sounded bizarre.

"No!!! Time for what, you crazy thing?!" I tried to tear off that hand that was coming out of the surface of the mirror and firmly holding my wrist.

I scratched and pulled, but my reflection wouldn't let go. The supposed Angela from the mirror sneered at my efforts, and that irritated me. I bit her hand. I managed to create a gap and free my hand. I turned to run, but my reflection grabbed my hair from behind, causing me to lose my balance and fall backward, hitting my back on the edge of the dressing table.

"Even if you didn't enter this room, even if you tried to escape, you couldn't. It's your destiny, you can't escape," said the reflection in a macabre tone, pulling me by the hair into the mirror as I struggled to break free.

Honestly, going through a mirror was incredibly weird; it was like a portal! Everything was dark, my body was tingling, and the back of my neck was hurting. I probably went bald after that. But little did I know that this strange dream was just the beginning of it all.