A Reaccuring Dream In The Mist

I

"Take this kiss upon the brow ! And, in parting from you now, thus much let me avow-"

The room was silent. You could hear a pin falling to the ground. The class sat anxiously, waiting to hear the next lines. Nobody spoke a word.

"You are not wrong, who deem. That my days have been a dream; Yet if hope has flown away. In a night, or in a day. In a vision, or in none-"

Everyone turns to me, and my heart starts trembling. Beams of sweat pour down my head like little waterfalls of worry.

"Is it therefore the less gone ? All that we see or seem-"

Everyone's eyes peer into mine, like they see through me. Their eyes then close and another opens– a third eye on their foreheads, glowing with its own light. The light shimmers like it has its own soul.

"Is but a dream within a dream."

Their eyes seem to grab at my soul with their energetic hands. My soul tries to pull away, but their hands are beyond my understanding. A fourth dimension. I turn to the teacher at the front of the classroom for help, for reassurance of something I don't understand fully, but she just stares and watches as I lose my soul to those she has taught. Her eyes catch traces of disappointment, her lips frown. I try to understand but I cannot. I can't remember moments before I stood in this blank classroom, with its off white walls and even more off ceilings, with its elementary desks and chairs. It seemed like everyone belonged to this room. Like the room has a mind and soul. The walls shake as it breathes, and its mind comprehends the fact that I'm the odd one out.

Why am I the odd one out ?

All the sudden a force pulls my soul out of the room entirely. A white light overcomes my eyesight, and it is all I know as of now. I try to look at my hands but I do not see them, nor my arms or legs. I am nothing. I am within the light. I am the light, the nothingness, the never-ending. But how is there a never-ending if it is all nothing ?

—--- —----- —---- —---- —---- —---

"All clear."

In that moment, everything rushes back. Like a big bang in the back of my mind, and my surroundings. My memories are now remembered, my experiences are not forgotten. Every dark night of the soul I have faced is now hung over me again, like a neverending hangover. My stomach, if I have one, turns. I scream, but my voice doesn't carry. But then, those dark nights pass. I am now at peace.

I was reborn all over again and lived my life in maybe two seconds, or less, or more. I'm not sure. Time is immensely irrelevant here.

I open my eyes to stare at a white ceiling all over again.

Except now I remember.

My name is Nova.

I have lived for 29 years so far.

I have always created things.

Art, music, poetry, stories, dances, light-

I am basically a reincarnated muse.

I cannot say more about myself, because any more I say will not be me.

How I grew up, my family, what schools I've been to, what I've seen.

That is not me.

Those are people, places, experiences that the Universe basically picked for me.

The only thing I can control, along with my words and actions, is what I can make.

I slowly sit up from the velvet red love sofa. The room was not bare as it was before. Colorful lights hung from the ceilings with vines entangled in them. The bookcases were a chocolate color, candles littered the glass coffee table, along with a glass of wine, half full. As soon as I sit up, the rug greets my feet, giving it a nice warm cushion.

Home.

I appeared to have fallen asleep in the living room. Dim music played from the other room, a smooth welcoming to my ears and soul. I smile, and grab my glass. A buzz reaches from my head, trailing down to my hands, and even more down toward my feet. How much did I drink ? I wonder. I walk a little unsteady toward the kitchen, searching for the bottle. I see, unfortunately, the bottle empty on the smooth marble counter, the light reflecting the glass, a hollowed shell of what was once there, a lot like me. As I placed the glass in the garbage, I realized, I've turned into everything I feared. I stood silent for a minute, my mind went numb at the thought, until I came back to my dream. The bare classroom, the desks in even rows in front of the teachers desk. It was like an elementary classroom stripped bare of everything that was supposed to make you happy. The colorful posters, the alphabet on the walls, the drawings that the kids would make. Gone. Just like the empty wine bottle. My soul felt like a bare piece of paper, thinking about it.

The eyes.

I suddenly remember the third eyes, all grasping at my soul with invisible hands.

"All clear."

The voice was from someone that took me back for some reason. It was crystal clear, an older male's voice. But I cannot remember where it came from. The voice carried a sense of deja vu.

That was a very weird dream. I thought.

I then decided to clean myself from the nonexistent filth.