After the 17th disturbed night in a row, she dragged herself to the kitchen to grab her morning cup with barely open groggy eyes. Lack of sleep had washed off all glow from her skin and she was left pale and tired. She looked longingly at her husband’s picture placed on the mantle wishing him to be there with her making her a nice breakfast. Oh how he loved her, cared for her and pampered her like a kid. Alas, he was out for a trip and she was left alone to manage on her own. She had to push herself to get dressed and be on her way to church.
She hardly had her eyes open throughout the prayer and was startled when the priest tapped her shoulder. He seemed to know what was wrong and with a sympathetic look in his eyes, he asked her to stay back and talk it out. She stood outside waiting for him while she saw the others exit the ancient church. He finally came trotting along the narrow muddy path dressed in white, spilling serenity. “Seeing dreams again?”, he asked. A nod was all she could manage with her frail head.
She was blessed (cursed) with the vision to have a glimpse of the future. Though these dreams did not give her the full details and were merely silhouettes moving and talking in shadowy surroundings, they possessed enough spooky material to suck off her sleep. It was not the first time that she had seen a death in her dreams, but this time the same dream was haunting her for over a fortnight now. Somebody was being killed, a dagger cut open her throat leaving the hurt in a pool of blood. Her shrieks were muffled behind a large pillow pressed to her mouth. A few minutes and the last chapter to her book ended abruptly.
Also read: Dreams Of The Unknown
The same images raided her dreams again, she was not scared now. Her eyes only pleaded a few hours of sleep which was repeatedly denied to her. On the 21st night she lay awake in her bed, her husband was coming back home and as she longed to be cuddled to a deep slumber, she waited. The phone rang, she jumped at the first bell and got the phone by the third. “Honey, there’s been a landslide and I am stuck. The weather is going to get worse, I better not take the risk. Lock all the doors and go back to sleep. It’s a bad night.”, the line died.
Back in the quilt she drifted to the same old dream. She woke up to find a pillow being pushed into her face. A dark shadow pierced her throat with a dagger. As she lay in blood awaiting her death, she heard a familiar voice. “Seeing dreams again?”, he mocked. As her chapter closed, the two caring men of her life discussed how she had made their lives hell. For one because her dreams had shifted everybody’s faith from the priest to her. The other was happy to silence the voice of a dominating wife!
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