On my way to hell

chapter 4

Alexandra Bariso

In my dream, he came to me again.

This time, it wasn't just a fleeting figure in the distance or a shadow that slipped through my fingers. He was real—so real that I could feel his presence, the weight of his gaze, the warmth of his touch that sent shivers through me. Everything about him felt like home, like the piece of myself I had been missing. The moment our eyes met, I knew with a certainty that I had never felt before: this man, this stranger in my dreams, was my soulmate.

I didn't fully understand it then, but looking back now, I see it so clearly. There was an invisible string tying us together, connecting us across time and space, even though I couldn't see it then. It was as if this thread, spun from something ancient and unbreakable, bound our souls together long before I was even aware of it. In the light of the dream, I can almost see it—shimmering faintly, a delicate line that stretched between us, no matter how far apart we were.

But at that moment, I wasn't ready. I was too focused on running, on escaping the intensity of what I felt. I didn't understand that the string, invisible yet so strong, was pulling me toward him, guiding me to where I was supposed to be. I panicked, overwhelmed by the unfamiliar feeling of belonging, and I fled. I ran from the very thing my heart had been searching for, afraid of the enormity of it all.

And now, as I sit alone in the quiet of the waking world, I feel the weight of that missed moment, like a knot in the invisible string that ties us together. I know deep down that the string hasn't broken. It still binds me to him, even across the vast distances that separate us, even in the silence of this world. I can feel it, tugging at my heart, a constant reminder that somewhere, he's out there, waiting for me.

That string—it's more than just a metaphor. It's a living connection, woven from the threads of fate and destiny, something so ancient and powerful that it defies explanation. I can almost see it now, stretching out before me, leading me back to him, as if the universe itself refuses to let us drift apart. No matter how far I run, no matter how much time passes, that invisible string will always be there, pulling us back to each other.

But when I do find him, things will be different. I won't make it easy for him. Just because we're connected by fate doesn't mean I'll let him have me without proving himself. He'll have to understand the value of what we share, the strength of the bond between us. The string may have tied us together, but to truly win me, he'll have to pull that string taut—he'll have to fight for me.

I imagine that string, binding our souls together, growing stronger with every step I take towards him. And when we finally meet again, I'll make sure he knows—he's not just bound to me by fate. He'll have to earn his place beside me, just as I'll fight for mine. And when we're finally together, the invisible string that's always connected us will no longer be invisible. It will be as real as the love we share, unbreakable and everlasting.

I got up from my bed, still feeling the weight of my dream pressing down on me. In my rush to shake off the unsettling feelings, I momentarily forgot about Ms. Zarathustra, my familiar. The white cat had a knack for knowing when I was distracted, and right on cue, she let out a sharp hiss.

Before I could respond, the door burst open, and my five friends rushed in, concern etched across their faces.

"What happened?" Thrain exclaimed, her red hair bouncing as she stepped forward.

I let out a heavy sigh. "I'm really sorry to disturb you guys," I muttered, already knowing they wouldn't let this go easily.

Elira crossed her arms, a teasing smirk on her lips. "I will burn you if I hear that again," she warned, her fingers crackling with playful sparks. "This is the third time!"