If I Just Dreamed

Sympathy- (1 of 13)

"Those who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night."

(― Edgar Allan Poe, )

You're doing great.

The skies were cloudy. The sun was out but if you only be seen through the sky portrayed as dim. If you were quiet enough -- you'd be able to hear small critters prowling around the woods. Niah looked down. What she held was almost weightless, to her it was a machine, an object meant to defend.

A snowball.

There is a dummy that stood just a few feet away from her. Niah was shivering, her fingers felt frost bitten; numb. But even the cold chill on a winter's afternoon could not quite conceal the haunted feel that reverberated.

Niah smiled, "-you did great! Now, -- the -- at the dummy again."

Her smile faded. There were no cloudy skies, there were no critters or land. There were no blankets of snow, there was no dummy.

And when she looked down -- there was no snowball either

Her head throbbed.

She reached towards the table by the bedside. It was instinct, but as her hand was placed on the table next to her. It had bumped into something. A cup, it juddered before falling off the edge, a large clatter resounded throughout the room.

Niah quickly sat up, her head was spinning again and she feared that it would never stop. Looking down -- she realized that it was - in fact - water. It was the same cup from last night that had landed on the ground. It wasn't a large mess, but a mess that needed cleaning up nevertheless. Her head was still fuzzy, bending down slightly to retrieve the cup, she ogled at it.

The weight felt unreal, the design was almost exotic - she never quite realized the intricate outline last night. More than likely from her shock. A dull fading red was stained in the deeper parts of the cup, they almost looked like eyes staring back at her.

Finally, she set it back on the bedside, this left her unsure of what else to do. Niah was still understandably confused with the situation. This hadn't made any sense. In fact, this all felt juvenile, only children and even teenagers dream of going to a fantasy world to escape from their problems.

With nothing else to do, she stared at the wall. Admittedly, it wasn't very interesting. The stone reminded her of an unfinished basement, the way her eyes gave the illusion of moving specks and a change of color was like swaying on a boat in the middle of the ocean. Ocean waves changed color with the light and prospective, as though your mind couldn't comprehend the difference. It described - visually - how she felt. Awkward, a twinge of fear sparked in her as the thought of returning home seemed implausible. Niah felt her gut eating her, butterflies? No, hunger? Perhaps. But her nervous attributes were definitely contributing. She took a heavy breath in.

The mirage of the stone ocean stopped -- just as the throbbing vanished.

"Good morning..."

A male voice picked up behind her. It was quiet and dull. Niah turned her head quickly to face the person who had taken her from her insignificant yet intruding thoughts -- her escape. For a moment she felt offended, but when she saw who was standing there, her eyes softened.

Link, it was Link.

He stood there. Almost leering hesitantly, but he was taut and carried himself well. His green tunic looked almost too big for him -- as the cloth was tucked underneath the belt was fluffed out. If anything they looked new for someone who had been given used clothes from his ancestor. Or maybe it was a new stitch. Link's hat was hidden -- attached to his belt without a second thought.