Trials and Tribulations - [Bensler EO]

Part Fourteen - Dreamer

She knew she was dreaming. She had to be. The air was too crisp, the city too quiet. At first glance, her focus was pulled to the beautiful contrast of the bright blue sky and the vibrant green trees. Her feet were planted firmly on the dewy grass, each blade against her bare skin. She carefully reached her hands out in front of herself, watching the marks of scarred skin fade back to her original complexion.

"You're dreaming, Olivia."

She ignored the voice, continuing to take in her surroundings.

The thin white gown on her body flowed with the breeze, gently wrapping around her legs as the wind blew. Suddenly, she was struck with the sound of music coming a few yards from behind her. It was drifting through the atmosphere like a lullaby to her tired ears. She felt herself move in slow motion, spinning her bare heel against the dampened ground. Her eyes squinted, trying to focus the vision that was becoming obstructed by an auburn strand of her hair.

She gulped as soon as she was facing the opposite direction. Rows of stone monuments lined parallel with each other, leading a pathway to a crowd of navy blue uniforms and black dress clothes. Rows of chairs were planted in the grass, leaving a small aisle pointing to a statuesque man standing with his legs spread and his arms behind his back. One by one, almost in sync, each standing body took their designated seats, all except for the man.

"It's just a dream."

The voice was replaced with the sound of her heart drumming loudly in her ears. She had experienced reoccurring or even haunting dreams, but never in a graveyard. She hated graveyards and always had. Too cold, too heartbroken. Any chance she got, she turned away from them. But a whisper that came as softly as the wind told her to take a step, move closer. The band grew louder, instrumental music with violins and trumpets and other beautiful instruments filling the air. She focused on the pattern of her breathing, each inhale powering another slow step closer.

Directly ahead of her stood the man, unwavering in his stance. His head was hanging low, but all she could see was the back of the familiar blue uniform. As the wind blew harder, more strands of her rust-colored hair covered her sight. Slowly, her hand rose to shield above her eyes from the sunlight beaming directly in front of her. He looked... angelic.

"Dreams can't hurt you."

The closer she got to the rows of seated guests, the harder her heart began to pound. Her dress skimmed along the grass as she finally reached the chairs furthest away from the man. Under the rhythm of the music was the faint sounds of sniffles and cries. The symphonic beat began to pick up faster, goading her on to pick up her pace and to continue stepping forward.

Her head turned slowly as she walked up the aisle, spotting the tearful faces from the occupied seats. Some familiar, some completely strange. Gold and silver badges glimmered against the sun, shining brightly into her eyes in tandem with the sun. The more rows she passed, the more familiar the faces became. Her heart was reaching well above the slow-paced tempo of the music that accompanied it.

She stared at the man again, trying to decipher why he looked so familiar. She knew the stance, the legs spread apart at shoulder-width. She knew the sandy-blond, almost colorless hair of the buzzcut on his head. The way his arms were behind his back, pushing his chest forward.

"Or maybe dreams actually can hurt you."

Even as she made her way down the clear aisle, none of the heads turned. No eyes connected with hers and followed. They all just remained the same, heartbroken and grieving, but unaware of her presence. She wanted to scream; to yell until they all turned their heads to see her. Her face contorted into confusion. Why couldn't they see her?