That night, Lisa lay in bed, her mind unable to quiet after the strange experience by the unmarked grave. The chill of the fog and the sound of that voice still echoed through her thoughts, and when she finally drifted off to sleep, her dreams were anything but peaceful.
Images flickered through her mind, quick and intense, like snapshots pulled from someone else's life. She saw fragments of a face she didn't recognize but felt she somehow knew—messy dark hair, a faint scar along his jawline, eyes filled with a haunting sadness. This was him—Liam. She didn't know how she knew his name, only that it felt as if she'd known it forever.
In the dream, he was staring right at her, his expression soft, almost vulnerable. She reached out a hand toward him, but the second she did, the scene changed. Now, she was in an old, candle-lit room, shadows dancing along the walls. Liam stood before her, dressed in what seemed like period clothing, an old-fashioned shirt and dark trousers. His face looked tired, and there was something in his eyes—a weariness, a grief that seemed centuries old.
Lisa… His voice, barely a whisper, felt both close and distant.
Lisa shivered in her sleep, his voice curling around her, as if calling her from the depths of her mind. She tried to ask him why he seemed so lost, so desperate, but her voice wouldn't come. All she could do was watch as Liam's expression grew more pained, his gaze piercing as though he was reaching out to her for help, a connection she didn't fully understand but could feel as clearly as her heartbeat.
Just as she was about to reach out again, a sudden image jolted her—flashes of a darkened graveyard, mist pooling over the ground, the haunting outline of Liam's silhouette at its center. He stood there, alone, looking back over his shoulder as if waiting for her.
Then, the dream shifted one more time, and she was in a dim room, watching as Liam's life seemed to play out before her in fragments—flickers of laughter, of a family she couldn't see clearly, and then a scene she could barely watch: Liam, falling to the ground, a shadow of some unknown figure standing over him. His eyes, wide with betrayal, met hers once more before everything went dark.
Lisa bolted upright in bed, her heart pounding. The room was dark, the only sound her own ragged breathing, but the images of Liam lingered in her mind, as vivid as if they'd been real. She clutched her blankets, trying to steady herself. What was happening to her? How was she dreaming about someone she'd never met, someone whose pain she felt so deeply?
She tried to push the thoughts away, but the connection she felt to Liam, whoever he was, refused to let go. All she knew was that his face, his voice, were now etched into her mind, and she couldn't shake the feeling that he needed her for something—that he was trying to reach out to her from beyond whatever barrier lay between them.
The next day at school, Lisa found herself distracted, her thoughts spiraling back to Liam over and over. She found herself zoning out during class, scribbling his name in the margins of her notebook without realizing it. She didn't know if she could confide in anyone about what was happening, not even Emily. Who would believe her if she said she was dreaming about a ghost?
But as she moved through the day, she couldn't ignore the feeling that had settled in her chest—a mix of sadness and longing that wasn't her own. She kept glancing at the faces around her, wondering if anyone could see how haunted she felt.
After school, Emily caught up to her. You've been acting… weird. Are you okay?
Lisa hesitated. She didn't want to drag Emily into something she could barely understand herself, but keeping it to herself felt like trying to hold back a storm. I… I've been having these dreams, she finally admitted, glancing around to make sure no one else could hear.
Emily arched an eyebrow. Okay, that doesn't sound too weird. We all have dreams. What's so—
About Liam, Lisa interrupted, lowering her voice. "The guy from last night… the one we might have, you know… heard.
Emily's face paled slightly. You're serious?
Lisa nodded. It's like… I don't know. It feels like I know him. I'm seeing his life, his past, his… everything. And it's sad, Em. It's like he's… reaching out.
Emily tilted her head, her expression a mix of curiosity and unease. So, what are you saying? You think you're… connected to him now?
Lisa shrugged, unable to find the right words. I don't know. But I can't stop thinking about him. It's like he's stuck, trapped somehow, and he needs my help.
Emily chewed her lip, considering. Well, I mean… we could do more research. Maybe there's something about this Liam guy in the old town records. It's a small town—if he's connected to that unmarked grave, maybe we'll find something.
Lisa felt a surge of relief. You'd help me with this?
Emily rolled her eyes. Of course. You're my best friend, and this is officially the weirdest thing you've ever gotten me involved in, so I can't back out now.
Lisa laughed, feeling a warmth in her chest. For a moment, the haunting sadness receded, and she felt almost normal again. Thanks, Em.
That night, as Lisa prepared for bed, she braced herself, knowing the dreams would come again. Sure enough, the moment her eyes closed, she was pulled into another vision, another fragment of Liam's life. This time, she saw him standing by a river, his face turned toward the sunset, a look of yearning in his eyes. His lips moved, whispering words she couldn't hear, but the sorrow in his expression made her chest ache.
"Why me?" she whispered, her own voice somehow drifting through the dream.
As if hearing her, Liam turned, his gaze meeting hers. Because, he replied softly, you're the only one who sees me.
A shiver ran down her spine. His words hung in the air, echoing through her mind even as the scene began to fade. And as her consciousness drifted back to the waking world, she knew one thing for certain: she couldn't ignore this connection any longer.
Whatever was tying her to Liam, she had to understand it, even if it meant unraveling secrets long buried.