A Mid Spring Night's Dream

 At first, there is nothing. 

Just darkness that seems to surround her. She feels a shiver down her spine as she sees the haze clear. She searches for something and finds herself squinting. She is looking at a young girl, probably a few years younger than her, dressed in a white coat with her hair in a loose low bun running around. She seems to kneel down, stay put for a few moments, then move to somewhere else, repeating everything. She finds herself walking toward the maiden engrossed in whatever she was doing. She gasps when she sees that the girl is herself and at the scene unfolding before her. The girl is now kneeling in front of a man laying on his back, opening a white box with a red cross on it, and tending to his wounds. She lifts her head and attempts to understand where she is but the darkness surrounding them both refuses to show her anything. The girl suddenly looks up and rushes to another area; it's a woman this time - she treats her as well and this keeps happening to a few more people as the vision begins to slip away. 

She is now awake and drenched in sweat. She feels like she's been stabbed and wants to breathe. She feels her lungs close up and brings her hand to her throat - it feels warm, too warm; and wet. She brings her hand back up and sees a red liquid coating her fingers. She moves her mouth but nothing comes out. She frantically looks around and suddenly sees dark figures running towards her. She struggles to sit up and raises her hand to ask for help but they pass over her. No one paused, not even to look at her misery. She feels as if her head is about to explode and looks down at her legs - they've begun to fade away; resembling charred paper. 

Shouting, she wakes up, this time for real, clutching her throat. She finds herself in her own bed, at home, with the sound of the ceiling fan at full speed and the second hand of her timepiece moving rhythmically. It is 4am. She immediately looks at the back of her closed door and frowns. Her eyes shift on their own to find her dreamcatcher on the floor. She takes a deep breath, another, and yet another, and then drinks from the water bottle kept at her bedside table. Sighing, she gets up and turns on her night light, then hangs up the dreamcatcher and gets back under the covers to get some more sleep. 

It is now mid-morning and as she sits at her desk, staring at the files, she recalls that morning. While munching on a breakfast burrito, she had tried to google the previous night's experience; keyword: tried. She had no idea what she was looking for and she knew she could be sucked into browsing an ocean of information if she didn't know exactly what she wanted from the search engine. She had started by typing in 'what does it mean if I'm close to dying in my dream' and had widened her eyes at the instantaneous search results on her screen. 

A familiar 'ding' on her phone brings her back. Shaking her head, she pulls up a client's form and decides that some of what she read might've been true - people may dream of dying if they're at a phase of their life that is about to have major changes. 

She glances at her wall clock - it's 8pm. The ringtone she had set for her brother starts blaring from her bag and she picks up on the fifth ring. 

"Hey!" she greets him and rolls her eyes at his raised eyebrow greeting. 

"Busy?" he asks. 

"No, what's up?" she says, flipping the roti on the tawa, and thinks it's one of those days. 

"What are we getting them this time?" 

"Eh?" It takes a minute for it to hit her. "Oh! Right, the twins' birthday is coming up." She tries to think of a gift for her soon-to-be-five cousins. 

"Sis?" she hears him say, "are you not going to make it?" 

"What?!" she looks at her screen and her brother shrugs. 

"Don't 'what' me," he chides her, "you're the one who looked like you were thinking of an excuse not to go." 

"They're my favourite cousins, of course, I'd go," she points her wooden spatula at him, "besides, it's a public holiday, so I'll probably be home a day earlier too." 

He mock-frowns, "They're our only cousins, sis." 

 She bursts out laughing, "Oh, c'mon!" and he smiles too. 

"What do you want to do then?" he asks about their presents and switches his camera from the front to the back. "I got them-", she is unable to hear anything more as she sees the red wrapping paper and everything red from her vision flashed through her mind. The spatula slips from her hand and clatters to the floor. "Oops-" she hears him say. "You okay?" 

"Yeah, Yeah, it's fine," she says. She manages to pick it up quickly and they continue their brainstorming for the presents. 

Another fifteen minutes later, when it's time for him to disconnect, she sees him hesitate and says, "Alright, out with it." 

"Sure," he nods, "what's up with you?" 

"What?" she asks and is a bit taken aback. 

"You've been dazed for the past 10 minutes," he pointedly says and she closes her eyes for a second. "I know you want to tell someone, why not just let it out?" She looks at him, takes a few breaths, and explains the dream and her findings to him. He thinks for a moment but shrugs, "Ever thought about it this way? You're busy solving problems of the people around you so much, that you don't have time for yourself, and that is harming you in the long run?" She gapes at him, and he says "I could be wrong," raising his hands. 

Later, as she goes to place the empty milk bottle outside her door, she stares at her name plate. It begins to make even more sense to her as it shone from the mid-night tube light: Ms. Tiffany Verghis, Clinical Psychologist.