A Feeling About You

Chapter 17: Lucid Clues

Back in that dream again, a vivid nightmare, but this time, it's different. I'm not just a spectator; I'm a calm observer, floating upwards along the mountain where our family minivan crashed into the sea. The car is empty, and my family isn't inside. I'm drawn to the cliff, where the mysterious man from that tragic day stood.

As I stride toward the cliff's edge, my senses sharpen in the dream. The environment feels eerily realistic. The cool wind flows through me, and the scent of salty water fills the air. Each footstep on the rocky path beneath my feet reverberates with haunting clarity.

Then, almost on cue, I hear a rustling sound nearby. A beat-up car maneuvers to the center of an open space concealed in the forest.

A man wearing a mask comes into view, sprinting towards a dense pile of leaves. He hops back into his car and drives just to the edge of the leaves, shatters the license plate, and casually tosses it in a pile. Dressed in black gloves and a long coat, he orchestrates his movements with a calculated rhythm. With a heave, he pushes the car license into a hidden hole and sets it ablaze.

It's him-the man who was on top of the cliff that day! I try to call out, to ask him questions, but my voice is trapped in my throat.

He rips off his mask and tosses it onto a pile of stacked wood. Then he proceeds to strip off the rest of his clothes, tossing them into a blazing fire. He changes into a completely new outfit and discards black gloves in the flames.

His face is cool and calm, then contorts in anguish as his aura emanates excruciating pain. I see the flames dance, reflecting in his eyes as he stands above the arson. I can feel the dark emotions enveloping him.

He lets out cries of agony, tears streaming down his face. "It wasn't supposed to happen this way," he mutters, his voice filled with despair. "Farah was supposed to survive. She should have stayed with me! She should have listened to me. It's not my fault. It's not my fault. This wouldn't have happened if she just listened to me."

I stand there, stunned, my emotions in turmoil. The man's voice and aura are hauntingly familiar. My throat tightens as I realize who he is.

Suddenly, his aura undergoes a chilling transformation. A malevolent, eerie laughter escapes his lips, his eyes widening as he gazes into the fire before him.

He gives out a cackled laughter that grows in intensity. "They deserved it. They all deserved it. She abandoned me. She left me here."

Rage courses through me, a fiery desire to confront him. I run towards him, his face now clear as day.

But before I can reach him, I'm abruptly awakened, my heart pulsating with rage and pain. I yearned to wipe that sheer look of satisfied insanity off his face. This lucid dream, as haunting as it is, has unravelled a tangled web of emotions and memories.

As I stand there, still reeling from the intense emotions of the lucid dream, I quickly remember Aiden, who's sleeping in the room next to mine. I can't let my aura spiral out of control like it did the last time I had a nightmare about that tragic day.

I take a few deep breaths, consciously steadying myself. I close my eyes and envision the warmth of my adoptive parents' embrace, the simple fond memories we've shared, like family stories around the fireplace, and cherished meals together.

I think of Aiden's innocent laughter, his trusting eyes, and how he relies on me. His presence fills me with love and responsibility.

I also think of Kai, my boyfriend. He's been my anchor, the one who makes me feel safe. His smile, his touch, his presence-they all soothe me in ways words can't describe.

With each breath, I release the negative emotions and tensions that have surfaced in the dream. Slowly, I regain control over my chroma empathy, ensuring my emotions are contained and tranquil. My aura returns to a serene state, as I picture all these loving and reassuring moments.

Once I've reestablished my equilibrium, I'm aware that the room is peaceful and still, and my aura is now calm. I spare a concerned thought for Aiden, hoping that he hasn't sensed the turmoil I experienced just moments ago through his chroma empathy.

With that worry in mind, I quietly return to bed, determined to shield Aiden from the chaos of my own emotions and memories, at least for now.

Lying in bed, the intense lucid dream still fresh in my mind, I feel compelled to document it. It's more than just a dream; it's an uncanny glimpse into the past or possibly something more profound.

Reaching for my bedside journal, I begin writing about the dream.

"I ran toward the cliff where the mysterious man stood, who I suspect might have been the driver. It's as if I'm searching for clues. This dream is eerily realistic; the wind, the scent of salt, everything is palpable.

I wonder, could this be a memory or a vision of what happened that day? I've had dreams foreshadowing future locations, but this is unparalleled in its vividness."

Continuing to write, I detail the man...his anguish, and how he blames Farah. The name 'Farah' sends a shiver down my spine - my late birth mother's name.

His transformation from pain to chilling laughter and talk of revenge is haunting.

As I close my journal, I can't shake the eerie feeling that this dream may hold hidden truths or an enigmatic message demanding my attention.

If it's...if it's really...him...I'll find as much evidence as I need to break that facade.

That masked man made me lose my parents. He broke my family.

I'll make sure he wipes that damn smile off of his face.

I'll make sure you'll never hurt anyone again, Derek.