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“Dream” 2013
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"Appa!"
Malia Kim cried, reaching for her father in the darkness of her bedroom.
Something hadn't felt right to the young sixteen year-old girl. Her head throbbed to the rhythm of her erratic heartbeat. The black bangs that fell against her forehead, stuck there with her own panic and desperation.
The tall and shaken man that fathered Malia stormed into her room, looking around to see anything that could have possibly caused his daughter's terror.
The darkness of the room swallowed the father and daughter whole as they engulfed each other in a tight hug. Malia's hands balled her father's shirt in her fists as she clawed for his comfort. He stroked her head softly.
"Lia," he cooed. "What's the matter? Did you have another nightmare?"
Malia, never letting go of her father's old pajama shirt, shook her head. She exhaled, trying to regain her steady breath.
"It wasn't a nightmare, Appa," Malia whispered.
Malia's father shifted slightly at the sound of his daughter's voice, her frightened tone did not help the worry that crept into his heart. He nodded, however, and allowed her to continue.
"It felt like someone was in my head," she paused briefly, unsure of how to describe the feeling. "It felt like someone tapped into my spirit - my soul."
At that point in time, Malia was aware of why she had been locked away her entire life. She knew of the gift she had been born with that felt like more of a curse. And more than anything, Malia was aware of the fact that she would never be normal – she would be locked away forever.
Malia's father pulled himself from his daughter's embrace. Her heart still shook violently as she felt otherworldly. She still saw little gold specks of what looked like dust particles, from her dream. They danced through her vision gently and floated around the darkness of her room.
She was positive that her father did not see them, too.
"How... do your eyes feel?" He asked slowly.
"Like they're on fire."
Malia's father stood suddenly, looking through the darkness and around her room for any form of focused light - a flashlight to be exact.
The moonlight that crept through Malia's blinds allowed her father to hurriedly find a small flashlight in a draw nearby. He shakily aimed the light at his daughter's eyes, inspecting them.
Platinum gold specks swam around the girl's naturally amethyst-coloured irises, looking like glitter and almost blinding her father.
His mouth opened as the girl's eyes watched the shocked expression spread over his face. Her eyes pleaded for him to ensure her that she was okay and that her eyes would feel normal again.
He never did. Instead, he asked her more about the dream and what she could have possibly felt or seen in her thoughtful slumber.
"A silhouette of a boy," she answered.
She said it so softly, as if it were a secret for herself. The shimmering specks swam around the gemstone-like pools of her eyes, as they begged and pleaded for attention.
"It was too dark, I couldn't see his face. But when I touched him, he became golden - the light around his body was almost blinding."
