Three

One

Careful not to wake anyone in the room, I move to the open window ledge where I keep my candle stick, it's the only thing I have from my parents. It was left with me on the doorstep of Kelly's Orphanage nineteen years ago, I've lived here ever since, sharing a room with the 16 other girls living here.

 The late evening breeze brushes my cheeks and my nose is filled with the sweet smell of blooming spring flowers, reminding me that the morning holds the promise of pruning the hedges and pulling the weeds out. Hanging my legs over the ledge, I began taking in the view of endless hills and housing. I lift the candle onto my lap. It was cold from sitting on the ledge with slight condensation on the edge of the silver plate it resides on, tracing the intricate designs on the edge with a delicate finger, I wiped away most of the droplets. The candle was about ten centimeters high and too thick for me to wrap my hand around, the wax held the warm scent of cinnamon and when held up in the light you can make out the shapes of Cassia flowers being held inside the wax. 'Halle' was carved into the side surrounded by more designs matching the small tray it sits in. 

I'd never lit the candle before because I'd always thought that if I did, it wouldn't be so special anymore. It was the only thing my parents had left me.  There had been so many times that I had wanted to light the candle, but somehow, I had managed nineteen years without doing so. 

Despite sitting in the soft, cold wind, I felt warm. I always feel warm, even when sitting in Winter's snow. The only cold I felt, was the slight chill of the candle in my lap, the candle I so desperately wanted to set ablaze. 

I cupped my hands around the small wick poking out of the scented wax, closed my eyes and imagined warmth radiating from it as a tiny flame emerged. In my mind, I imagined the candle burning for hours with out ever melting the wax. Just an endless flame, damaging nothing, leaving the sweet scent of cinnamon for me to bath in. Opening my eyes to once again view my home, I could see a feint orange glow from under my cupped hands, the smell of the candle suddenly intensified. Peeking through my fingers, I was astonished to see that the tiny flame from my imagination had come to life, flickering and swaying in the breeze. I was speechless, thoughtless although my mind spun. How had the flame lit? Surely I couldn't have done it. 

As cinnamon replaced the smell of spring gardening, I quickly blew out the candle and was a little disappointed that the flame had left it's mark on the once pristine wick. It's sort of tragic, how fire is so alive as it dances for you, leaving a permanent reminder of it's short lived life once it's gone. The corner of my mouth lifted as I pondered the life of fire. Somehow, the mystery fame seemed to have made my candle feel a little more special than it had before.

Cupping my hands over the tip of the candle once more, keeping my eyes open this time, I willed the flame to be resurrected. As i watched, the wick began to glow and burst into a small, burning ballerina. I touched my fingertip to it, the flame licked and danced around my hand leaving the wick emptied again while the flame continued to burn in my palm. Although it didn't burn me, it felt like a warm hug from an old friend, it was more than that, it felt like family. For the first time in nineteen years, I felt the warmth of family. 

"Halle" A squeaking voice piped up behind me, making me jump a little. I closed my fist, extinguishing the flame and feeling a little sad to have to say goodbye to it so abruptly. I swung my legs back around to face the darkened room where my friends slept. Amelie, the smallest of the girls here at Kelly's, stood before me in her nightdress holding her stuffed koala doll. It was her special thing, having been pulled from the rubble left of her house after it had burnt down three years ago when her parents had died. Amelie was only six, but she had been through so much already. 

"I can't sleep, Halle" She whimpered. Replacing the candle back to it's spot on the window sil, I took Amelie's hand and guided her back into her bed. After tucking her in with a kiss to the forehead, I began to softly sing On Top Of Old Smokey to her to lull her back to sleep. 

"Goodnight, Amelie" I whispered to her, kissing her freckled forehead again. It's kind of ironic, this scene. It happens at least once a week, the youngest in the orphanage would wake and ask for the oldest to tuck her back in. And sitting in my window tonight, I felt like a scene from Annie. All that was missing was my solo of Tomorrow and a fiery afro. I suppose I was half way there, my hair was only one shade darker than Aileen Quinn's had been during filming. I didn't have quite as many freckles as she did, though. 

Once I was certain Amelie wouldn't wake again, I pulled the window closed and headed to my own bed next to my best friend Gilby Wulding, tucked myself in and nodded off into my dreams. 

---

I sat on the beach staring out at the ocean, my skin speckled with sand and my hair the fairest shade of blonde. My once amber eyes now the brightest, deepest blue. I looked happy, surrounded by countless other beach goers roasting god knows what in the fire before them. Tall, waxed surf boards stood upright in the sand, bottles and cans littered the ground around the makeshift bin. Looking up, I saw a tall brunette guy some sit next to me while the waved crashed and climbed the shore ahead.

"Hey, beautiful. What do you think of the party?" He said. Obviously, he's trying to hook up with me. 

"It would be better if we actually went in the water, what's the point of a bikini if you aren't going to swim?" My voice was sassy, I liked it. It wasn't until I had said that that I realized I was wearing an indigo tie dyed bikini set. It was high waisted, just the way I liked them. I had a tear shaped blue gem poking out of my navel, with a small silver ball on top. It was cute, much different from my own. In reality, my navel bar was bright red and heart shaped. 

Leaving the party behind me, I got up and began to walk towards a dim yellow street light, or beach light I guess. I looked over my shoulder, double checking I was alone before speaking. "I know you're watching, I saw you light the candle. Tell me where you are"

It was then that I realized that it wasn't me in the dream. This wasn't my dream. This wasn't even a dream. A vision of some sort, someone else's vision playing in my head while I slept. 

---

I woke with a jolt, gasping for breath. I felt so trapped in there, so helpless. What was that? My heart was racing, I could hear it pounding in my ears. My normal, boring life had just turned into something really weird in just a few hours. 

It was daylight now, the fresh rays of light beamed in through the cracks in the curtains willing my friends and I to wake up for a bright new day.