Nora has been tormented by haunting nightmares for months, yet amidst the darkness, she begins to encounter a captivating girl whose presence mesmerises her. The girl's beauty is so striking that Nora finds herself longing to see her again in her dr...
❛ Ace of Cups Upright New Feelings / Spirituality / Intuition ❜ Nora
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I flicked on the lamp that stood between my makeshift bed and Taylor's, casting a soft glow over the room. The gentle light illuminated just enough to reveal the familiar contours of the space without waking Taylor, who slept soundly in the bed beside mine.
It had been a week since I'd started staying over at Taylor's, and the contrast to my previous nights couldn't have been starker. My days were now filled with productivity, my nights with a sense of peace that had been absent for so long. Gone were the endless hours of tossing and turning, the frantic rush into the chilly dawn to escape my father's wrath.
Yet, despite the newfound tranquility, there was an unsettling pattern that had emerged. For the past week, I'd been dreaming about the girl. Every night, it was the same scenario—her hauntingly familiar face, her cryptic words, the sense that she knew more about me than I knew about her. I'd tried asking, probing, desperate to unravel the mystery she embodied, but my efforts yielded little.
Tonight, sleep eluded me entirely. The thought of drifting back into that dreamscape, of encountering her again without gaining any new insights, felt unbearable. Instead, I propped myself up against the wall, my back pressing into the cool surface, and reached for my sketchbook and pencil case on the bedside table.
The sketchbook felt comforting in my hands, its pages a canvas for my restless mind. I opened it to a fresh page and took out a pencil, the familiar sensation grounding me. With a deep breath, I began to draw, letting my memory guide me. Every line, every shadow, was etched from the vivid recollections of my dreams, where she had appeared night after night.
Her face began to take shape on the paper. Her eyes, deep and mysterious, seemed to peer into my soul. Her lips, always on the verge of speaking truths I could never quite grasp. The way her hair framed her face, the slight tilt of her head, the enigmatic expression—it all flowed from my pencil as if I had known her all my life.
As I sketched, the room around me faded into the background. The only sound was the soft scratch of pencil on paper, a soothing rhythm that mirrored my heartbeat. I lost track of time, absorbed in the process, each stroke a small step towards understanding.
The girl in my dreams was becoming more real with each passing moment, her image solidifying on the page. And with it, a sense of determination grew within me. I would uncover her secrets, piece by piece, dream by dream. For now, this drawing was all I had—a tangible connection to the enigma that haunted my nights.
I glanced at Taylor, still peacefully asleep, and felt a surge of gratitude for her unwavering support. She had given me a sanctuary, a place to breathe and heal. And in this quiet, lamplit room, I found a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, I would find the answers I sought.
