Dreamer, Marie Reza [android based ebook reader TXT] 📗

1. STRANGER

I NORMALLY DON’T HAVE DREAMS, BUT WHEN I DO, they're logical; they’re normally about my mother, my life in the estate, and my few friends.

This one was not logical.

I was in an unknown place, with a stranger girl by my side crying. The place was desert-dead like, on the sunset. Where I live, it looks more like paradise than a desert. There were many people looking for us, but I had a feeling that we were hiding, and shouldn’t be found, no matter what. I stared at the girl beside me. Why was she crying? I’d never seen anyone cry so painfully, so I started to get curious. I wanted to ask her what was wrong, but I couldn’t seem to find my mouth. All I could do was just stare at the horizon.

I had a feeling that I couldn’t seem to figure out. Was I worrying? What am I worrying about? Am I worried that I’ll get caught by these mysterious strangers? No, that wasn’t it. I wasn’t worried about myself. I was worried about somebody else. Was it this stranger? Was I worried about this stranger girl that I’d never seen before getting caught? No, that wasn’t it either.

Then, I saw him.

A fierce flood of relief drowned me. I knew he was safe, and that was all that mattered to me.

But…

Who was he? Why was he here, with us? I had a lot of questions, questions that I still couldn’t ask because I still couldn’t find my mouth.

Then, he looked in to my eyes, those warm, liquid chocolate eyes with just a hint of gold that bordered the chocolate that seemed to melt me away. He grabbed my face with both of his hands, and, with an angel’s voice, said, “Don’t worry. Everything’s going to be all right. You’re safe now with me.”

And that’s when I woke up.

I woke up shocked, panting, and confused. It was the sixth night this week that I had had the same dream. It was still dawn, and had a few more hours until I had to go to work with my mother.

I went back into my bed, though I wasn’t sleepy anymore. The dream had shocked me awake. I stared at the ceiling and started to look back at my dream. The man in my dream was a complete stranger. I had no idea who he was, or why I cared about him. But, since it was a dream, it probably shouldn’t matter. He didn’t exist.

Suddenly, I stated to feel stinging in my eyes. Ugh. Why am I crying? But, I knew the answer. I was crying because he didn’t exist, and I wanted him to. I wanted his eyes to look into my eyes. I wanted his hands on my face again. I wanted him so badly to exist, that I would do anything to make that possible. So, the only thing I could do to see him again was to go to sleep—and have the same dream. Again.

As I was dreaming about him again, I started to concentrate on his face. I wanted that face to be memorized. I wanted to recognize that face in a crowd of a million people. His face was beautiful, it took my breath away. His skin was a warm light, peachy color. His high cheekbones were set perfectly along his hard jaw. His lips were full and—though he wasn’t smiling in the dream—I knew that his teeth would be sparkling white and perfect. His hair was cut short and was dark brown… almost black. His eyes were the most hypnotizing part. It was a warm, chocolate color, and even though there were many shadows in my dream, I knew that at the border of the pupil there was a hint of gold. He was perfect.

After my second nap, I woke up. My roommate, Danielle—who was also my best friend since I was two—was taking a shower, so I decided to wait until she was finished. I looked around the room, and liked what I saw. My room was simple—two beds, two tables, two lamps, a closet, and a mirror. The walls were a light gold—it seemed to lighten the room. There was a window on the west side of the room, with white lace curtains. And on the north side of the room, there was a full sized mirror. None of these decorations were my idea—I had always liked my room simple, but Danielle and my mother were always adding new things to keep the room from looking like a prison cell.

Danielle always took forever when she was taking showers, so it seemed that I was going to have to wait quite a while. My bed was right in front of the full sized mirror, so I could see myself when I was lying on my bed. I went to the mirror to examine myself. My skin was right in between olive and fair. Whenever I would be in the sun for too long, my skin would turn olive. But when stayed out of the sun, my skin would lighten up. Once, I had stayed inside for so long, that my skin had turned into a creamy white. My face was shaped like a heart and my lips were full and they had a nice rosy color. I had high cheekbones and a small nose. The strangest part of my face was my eyes. They were big and round and you tell in my eyes if I was happy or sad, mad or curious, amused or horrified. I remembered reading once in a novel about a girl who had eyes that were so readable that her mother called her an open book. I was probably related to that girl.
But that wasn’t as strange as the color. My eyes were an odd combination of amber, hazel, and gold. In the center, they were hazel, but as you got farther away, amber melted in. And just in the border a hint of gold surrounded the whole thing. That was the reason for my name. My mother told me that my eyes were so beautiful, that my name had to express my beauty. I laughed silently at that part. My hair was a dark mahogany color and almost reached my waist. There were some curls in there, too. Other that my face, my body was ordinary. I had a petite body with narrow hips and a slender torso.

After I got bored looking at myself in the mirror, I began wondering about the man from my dream. Who was that man? I asked myself again. Why was I suffering so much just because he was just a dream? I realized then why. I wanted him. I wanted him bad. I wanted to be with him no matter what. But he wasn’t real.

He wasn’t real.

Danielle came out of the bathroom, and startled me.

“What’s up, Amber? Did I scare you?” She asked sarcastically

“No…I was just thinking about something when you showed up…do you need to use the bathroom anymore?”

“No, I’m done,” She said reluctantly. “Umm… so, are you still dreaming about, you know, that guy?”

Her question caught me off guard. “Wait, how did you know about that?” I hadn’t told anyone about that dream.

“Well, you know how you, you know, have conversations in your sleep—I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but you woke me up—and you’ve had conversations like that for like, a week now. I’m just curious…” She smiled apologetically.

“Oh,” I said. Well, I can’t hide it anymore.
“It’s nothing, really, I’m just dreaming about somebody… I don’t even know why I am.”

Danielle looked at me sadly. “But you’re suffering; I've also heard you cry in your sleep. Is there anything I can do for you?”

“No, Danielle, it’s just a dream. I’m going to go take a shower now.” I turned away from her, and headed to the bathroom. “Wait,” I said, “please don’t tell anybody about this, alright? I don’t want anybody finding out about this.” Bad enough that Danielle already knew about this.

I went to the bathroom, and took a shower. I was already tense, and my conversation with Danielle had made me even tenser. I liked Danielle, she was my best friend, but sometimes she was too…too preoccupied. She cared too much about me. That was a good thing, but sometimes I wanted to be alone.

I got out of the shower and got dressed for work. Danielle had already left—we always left together, but she knew me too well, and she knew I wanted to be alone. I decided to put the dream in the back of my head, and forget about it…until nighttime, that is.

I had lived on the estate since I was born. My mother started working there when she was only nineteen years old. There’s a town close by, that was where my father used to live. My mother met my father, fell in love with him, and after two weeks of unbelievable romance, she got pregnant. As soon as my father found out, he left town and we never saw him again. The owner’s son found out of my mother’s pregnancy and helped her with me. Mr. Edwards from time to time says that he looks at me like a daughter, and that’s why he treats me more special than all of the other servants.

Sometimes, that gets very awkward, but my mother tells me to make him happy.

My daily routine was to go to the kitchen and grab Mr. Edwards’s breakfast and give it to him. After that, he would tell me of the dream he had last night, and tell me how he felt about that. Then, I would leave to other rooms to start cleaning with my mother.

I walked into the kitchen with my friendly, warm smile. “Good morning, Mrs. Ellen. How is your morning so far?” Mrs. Ellen was the estate’s cook, and my mother’s close friend. She was in the kitchen finishing up some blueberry pancakes.

“Oh! Good morning, Amber! I’m fine. How about you? Did you sleep well?”

“I slept very well, thank you.” I didn’t want to tell her about my dream. “Are you almost done with Mr. Edwards’s breakfast?”

“Um, yes, it’s right by the counter.” She pointed at the counter with her chubby, little fingers.

“Oh, all right. Did you remember to not use strawberry jam this time? I don’t want Mr. Edwards to get mad at you again.”

“Yes. We don’t want that incident to happen again, now do we?” She chuckled nervously at the memory.

“Well, okay. I’ll see you later.” I grabbed the plate with one hand and waved at her with the other.

“Bye, Amber! Take care.”

I passed the other servants in the hallway and they waved at me as usual. I always wondered why they were always so happy to see me. I once asked my mother about why that was, and she responded as if the answer was very obvious.

“Well, you’re like the sun, sweetie,” she stated, “you bring light to everybody. You make everyone happy. Oh, you have no idea how much happiness you gave me when you were born. Everyone loves you…”

I really didn’t buy that explanation. From time to time I would really think that it had something to do with Mr. Edwards.