POV - (Reve )
Once again, I find myself in solitude. The houses that surround me glow like gentle candle flames, radiating warmth in their very essence. Though no one seems to inhabit this place, the place I think we could call home, an undeniable presence lingers in the air. Tiny lanterns hang from the edge of each wooden house, their soft glow illuminating the cold night. Smoke wafts lazily from chimneys, a testament to the warmth within. Each house tells its own story, painted with colors ranging from the softest pastels to the deepest, richest tint.
The winding roads beneath my feet are composed of golden sand, surprisingly warm despite the chilly weather. Rows of charming, tiny cottages line the streets, some appearing untouched by human hands for quite some time. As I strolled deeper into the village, I stumbled upon quaint shops, their entrances curiously open to the world. There were hat shops with the most endearing tuques and antique watch shops that seemed to whisper secrets of a bygone era.
And then, a pause—right before a house with a door the color of a bluish grey, a shade that mirrors the depths of my own eyes. A golden plaque reads "The Nightweavers." I can't quite explain why I stopped here, but something drew me in. I gathered my courage and gently knocked, one... two... three... four... but no one answered. The doorknob surrendered to my touch, and I entered. As I stepped inside, the lights in the lobby flickered to life, as if the house itself had been waiting for me. The silence echoed around me . My stomach rumbled, a reminder of my hunger. Maybe, just maybe, I'd find something to eat here.
In the kitchen, I discovered a freshly baked cake. My hunger overcame my etiquette, and I dove in without washing my hands, grabbing a stick from the counter. The flavors danced on my taste buds, and I couldn't help but remember my grandmother's wisdom: "Those who love to eat will always find delicious meals." In a mere five minutes, the cake had vanished, and my belly was content. Yet, an unexpected wave of melancholy washed over me, and I lingered in the moment, wondering why my mood had shifted so suddenly. I had been so joyous until now.
With a determined sigh, I decided a change of clothes might lift my spirits. I ascended a staircase, exploring a few doors until I found a room adorned with stars, moons, and shades of pink. Stepping into the room, I noticed its exquisite decor: stars and moons adorned pink bed sheets, curtains swayed gently, and a white bed, plush with cushions, awaited. A small lamp cast a soft, comforting glow. I rummaged through the wardrobe, inside the wardrobe, I discovered a white, fluffy ensemble: pants, a shirt, a pink jacket, scarf, and a tuque. Gathering these items, I continued my quest and finally located the bathroom. A large tub brimmed with warm water beckoned. All I needed now were some borrowed clothes—I couldn't imagine the owner would mind.
As I allowed the gown's delicate fabric to cascade to the floor, I stood there in nothing but my black thong. I eased into the warm water and added a few drops of vanilla-scented liquid. A soothing fragrance enveloped me, calming my mind. I leaned back, resting my head on the rim of the tub, letting tranquility wash over me.
After a while, I rose from the bath, feeling re - energised . Stepping out onto the cool tiled floor, my right foot found purchase, but my left betrayed me, causing me to tumble back into the water. Adrenaline coursed through my veins as I struggled to regain my footing. My head grazed the tub's edge, and suddenly, darkness enveloped me.