At first I see a medieval castle surrounded by a vast green forest.  It’s feels airy and surreal as if from an eagle’s eye view. There’s a large garden. I’m flying through the air and find myself instantly grounded.

 I’m standing at the window, staring out at the rows of plants and stone pathways. I turn from the window and notice I’m in a room fit for a queen. The smell of jasmine fills the air and is warm and welcoming, but I’m apprehensive, wound tight, waiting for something. There’s a four poster bed draped in beautiful burgundy fabrics.  A painting of young woman hangs on the wall perfectly balanced. Her strawberry blonde locks flowing gently over her right shoulder. She’s wearing a lovely A-line dress, lightly lined with what looks like gold threading.  I’m not ready, not now. My stomach in knots and there’s so much tension in my muscles I can barely turn my neck. 

There’s a mirror on a wooden stand at the other end of the grand room.  I take a few steps forward and the reflection is an image of the woman in the picture. It’s me, but I’m different.  I see sadness in my eyes and feel great heaviness in my chest.  I’m expecting something.  My entire body feels as if it’s crying.  The muscles stiff and I’m motionless.

The door crashes open and a tall dark haired man wearing a red cape boldly enters my room.  It isn’t the type of scene where a dashing prince rescues the princess.  No, this is altogether wrong. I’m not relieved to see him.  No, rather he is my living nightmare. I can’t breathe.  I can’t move.

He clears the short distance between us in a matter of seconds. Oddly, I’m drawn to him, his dark allure frighteningly strong. It feels wrong. Fear wells up in my chest. It’s no surprise that he’s here for me. I half expected him to come earlier.  It had come to me in a vision I vaguely remember from my dream, the night before last.

I manage to contain my fear and build courage. My hands out in front of me I prepare to push myself away from the intruder.  My daring brews. I’m able to shout

 “No, I will not be with you.  You have no power over my soul. I cast you out into the cold, you cruel beast.” I keep repeating the same chant hoping the words in the spell will change my destiny.

The man pushes my hands aside and grabs my forearm.  He twists it in behind my back and my skin burns from his touch. I can’t look at him. I wouldn’t dare chance looking into those honey eyes. He scoffs at my incantation. 

I gulp at the air and he smells awful. I carefully swallow back bile.  I know what comes next.  This part is always the same.

His scarred face and hungry eyes search for hesitation. My body cringes while he greedily takes in my scent. I feel the revulsion of my entire being, as he presses me back against the wall. His mouth appears to be watering. His smell nauseating. .He’s been waiting for this, for my awakening.  It scares me, but as appalled as I am, I find myself waiver for just a moment.  It would be so easy to just give in, refuse the fight this time.

 His free hand starts pulling at my many layers. I grimace and tears layer my pale face. Within the depths of my soul I know it’s not that easy.  I won’t ever give up, the fight defines me. He relinquishes his hold on my wrist and crudely grabs my face and pulls it towards his.  I struggle but his grip tightens. He thrusts himself against me in vain.  I have never been so relieved to be buried beneath all these skirts. His eyes darken; the pupils are large and black.  The brown iris is nearly completely covered. He all but growls in his frustration. 

“You are mine.” The words spew out and he grits his teeth. “No other man may have what belongs to me. Choose to be mine or die.”

Contemptuously, I ponder whether a life of servitude to this cruel animal would be better than, what I’m certain will be a horrible and painful death should I deny him. Determined and gallant, I push against his hold.  I squirm a little but my muscles are weak in comparison to his strength. Yes, armed with integrity my body screams with courage. This is the way it has always been, and will always remain the same until the end of time. Defiantly one word crosses my lips.  Like a dagger from under my cloak I use my voice as my only weapon and say “Die”.

I know what comes next.  No matter in which format the dream comes.  It always has the same ending scene, the events lead up to my death, in different settings and employing different characters.  Always, I realize too late, I’m being hunted. I courageously deny this bastard. Then, he rips out my throat in vengeance for defiling his façade, his fantasy to reveal his cruel intentions.

My heart is pumping. My face lined with tears.  Anticipation of my impending death tight against my pursed lips and I let out a tiny cry. He’s changing.  I mean his face, his body, his entire form experiencing some sort of transformation.

His face compresses into a nasty snarl.  I see the skin stretch taunt across the bridge of his nose as it broadens and pushes out toward my face.  The thin blue veins trace a hundred pathways as the translucent plastic like shell quivers.  In moments, he’s not human but a savage mingling of several different carnivores.  So, this is the way it will be this time.  I brace for the impact and I’m surprised that the tearing sends piercing, throbbing pain so instantly through my body.  It won’t last long.  My mind is drawing blank. Just a few more minutes of torture and it will all be over. Then I’m surrounded by white light and an absence of sensation of any type. Until I awaken anew.