Tomorrow is a blur for everyone but not for her. She knows too well that her future is just a repeat of her past. Bloody. Cold. Bruised. That will be her. Will she risk to have that tomorrow again just to treasure the blink of happiness before it w...
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I remember his sweet kisses. When his fingers wandered on my skin, fireworks wonderfully blasted through my head. He was my being. He was mine. I was his... only his.
~ Memory Journal: The Brothel page 15 ~
A reminder. A lesson. A premonition.
She can't pin point when it first came. She only remembered when it was all too overwhelmingly horrifying that she ran along the dark corridor to her parents' bedroom to sleep with them. She was just a kid and she couldn't understand what they were.
Only nightmares.
Her mother used to soothe her, singing her a beautiful lullaby along the humming of one of her dads. In between their warmth, she felt relieved and secured.
However, one nightmare came after another.
Ever since, she has become fearful. How else? Everything felt so real. The flaring angry fire, the searing pain, the vivid crimson blood bathing her whole, the dread of loss, and the repeated fall to betrayal. It's as if she was living in them.
She understood, too well, that they were not measly nightly horrors. They mingled with her real life, stealing innocence on the beautiful world, minimizing her trust into bubbles and blasted them up to nothingness. With such young age, she understood it so well.
"Baby, why don't you bring your friends here?" Her mother used to curiously ask, excited to finally cater for the people her mother thought she cherished. But how could she tell her mother that those people she called friends never existed? That, they were all figments of her imagination? That no one would like to befriend a weird loner girl like her? Especially not who thought that nightmares were real, scaring even the teachers concerned to her. And if someone did, how could she bring herself to trust them?
Besides, she had her angelic sister – Eun-ji.
Eun-ji was so much younger but she was her strength. It should had been the other way around. Dal-rae was older by five years but she was always on her little sister's bed, hugging her close, wishing for the nightmares to go away.
But another came after the other. It never seized. Instead, it multiplied over.
Suppressed memories.
Eun-ji deduced that they were all part of her past. When they were teens, together with her sister, they started to write details on each dream. Soon, they were able to catalogue them into different plots with different set of characters and different settings.
Her sister found it delightful. What had been written were great surprise, at least to her sister, for even without writing them, deep inside Dal-rae could discern which is which and what is what. It's like everything were all stories authored by her where she could determine every minute detail of each plot.
