Chapter 1:- The Blue and White House
I wake up to a blinding white light. My eyes pinch in irritation, and it aches from the brightness. I do not need to question myself. I know exactly where I am. Rising up slowly, as if from the dead, I look around my surroundings. Up, down, left, and right.
Something rises up in my throat as I find myself standing on a cloud. The panic I feel is not foreign. The fact that I'm standing on a layer of thin puff is rather unstable and frightening. I dare not to jump or take a step. The last thing I want to feel is my death in my own dream.
"Hello?" I shout to no one and nowhere. I close my eyes, trying to think of someone to appear. The things or who I dream correlates to what I see right now, but it does not work if my dream- self tries to think. It's like a mental battle with myself, and it takes a toll on my energy when I wake up. I'm fully aware of this after many hard times and sufferings.
The whole setting is silent. Now why would I dream about something like this? Everything suddenly goes pitch black, and I feel my eyes try to adjust itself. All the feelings I feel in here stays with me when I'm alive.
About ten seconds later, I find myself in a house. A blue and white house to be exact. I look down to the ground when I take my first step. My foot solidly plants on the ground. Good, good. I continue walking toward the house.
The scenery is much more pleasant than the white nothingness I woke up to. It's as if I'm living in Spring, with the green grass brushing my ankles, and butterflies resting on colorful flower petals. I smile at what a happy thought my sleeping-self is dreaming.
Making sure the house is empty, I ring the doorbell and wait. Footsteps were not audible on the other side, and no answer is to be made. I take that as my cue to twist the door knob and step in. "Pardon the intrusion." I say to no one in particular.
The house is completely organized. Clean, but traditional. I do a little run down memory lane and I do not recall this house at all. All the walls of this house is only one color, a creamy beige. No marks or scratches on the walls to indicate any life here. The thought sends a shiver up my spine.
This house is like a maze even though it's only one floor. There are many hallways and rooms to twist and turn in that I don't even remember if I crossed the same room or not. I enter the dining room, and something is cooking on the stove. A kettle pot. My heart rate jumps high again, and I quickly turn off the stove before the kettle can make a sound.
"Who are you?" A feminine voice asks behind me. The hairs of my back stands straight, and goosebumps start to appear on my arms and legs. I turn my body towards the voice, and I come face to face with a woman who appears to be middle-aged. She's wearing a sleek black nightgown, contrasting to the brightness outside. One thing I learned from my previous dreams is that I have to tread lightly. I cannot aggravate or upset anyone in this dream or else it clashes with my reality, and this will turn into a nightmare.
I have to act as if I'm part of this life. "I wanted to drop by some cookies I made, but I accidentally dropped them on the way to your kitchen." I lie smoothly. I do not give anything away. No habits on display or speech mistake. The woman looks at me in suspicion so I go on, "I wanted to see who was nearby my house, and I wanted to make a good first impression." And there, the woman gives me a small sad smile.
"Well, I'm sorry you dropped the cookies, I'm sure they were delicious." She kindly responds. However, there was something unsettling about this woman. My head turns to the window, but my eyes stay with her. In my peripheral vision, I see her walk towards the refrigerator.
"What's your name?" I ask in full curiosity. I try to let my fear slowly fade away from my body, but it never does. There's something about fear that stays with you, and once you experience it you can never go back to ignoring it. Fear makes you fight it head-on, and if you don't it consumes you. Good thing I'm stubborn.
The woman holds out her hand, and I debate whether I should take it. Her hand is as pale as porcelain, and as unwavering and sturdy as gold. I reach out to her, not knowing what will come after me now.
"I propose you shall not scream nor escape, for I will tell you that I am a faery." And that's when I see what's in front of me then. Her iris isn't one I've ever seen before. It's almost cat-like, and a glowing emerald green shines from her transformation.
A gasp escapes my lips, and her wings show itself behind her back. She has a menacing smile, and I find myself getting sleepier and sleepier. The room slowly swallows me into darkness, and I drown, getting deeper and deeper.