She fell asleep; the next thing she knew, she was sneaking out through a tunnel. The hidden passageway that she had never seen before. Her eyes can see the way and her body moves on its own, like she confidently knows where she is going and what she is doing.
She was holding a lit lamp, though it doesn't have a fire but a simple glowing light. It's kind of hazy because of the light or maybe her eyes. She climb, crawl, descend and ascends until she reaches the end of the way. She pushed to remove the cover and then she reached a wide rooftop of an enormous castle. A very huge medieval castle and up there was a very unusual spectacular sky.
"I guess I have dreamt of this a hundred times," she muttered. Her lips moved on their own.
She started to run towards the middle, something she would be scared of doing because she's afraid of wide spaces under the sky. She felt like she might be swallowed by the sky whole or she might fall into it.
The earth has the most beautiful skies that can vary in colors; however, it looks very narrow. This sky looks wider, higher and deeper, like it doesn't have any atmosphere.
It is impossible indeed; Earth can't survive without an atmosphere.
The stars were sparkling clear like crystals.
Such perfect scenery. More than the Milky Way we can all see. It is like they are close by which might be very dangerous if they were yet it remains calm and serene.
She extends her right hand towards the sky and almost seems like she's reaching for the stars.
It's so beautiful.
She closed her eyes and breathed in. She lifted the other hand and started to sway them through the air and she started to dance, admiring the beauty of the place.
Beautiful as the city night lights that glow in the darkness. It is very wonderful to the sight. She continued, and then the music was heard and started to trance her. The place shifted, and then people started to appear all around like in a ballroom. The sky is the same light below and darkness above with a glow. Men dance with her, faces she doesn't know. They held her hand and welcomed her for a dance, one by one.
Lights appeared and flew upward like lanterns ascending the night sky, like rivers flowing towards the heaven.
Everyone saw it and rejoiced. Clamor was heard.
Then a word keeps echoing in her head. "Callin, Calling, Call, Call," whispered repeatedly.
A perplexing notion to resound in such a wonderful place.
After a twirl, everything stood still when she saw the last person that would be dancing with her. This time she can move her body and control her facial reactions freely. She walked towards her next partner as that person walked towards her; the music suddenly slow down and when they started to dance a waltz, tears fell on her cheeks and a small grateful expression was seen on her face.
It was her deceased father. Then she realized, 'Yes, this is a dream.'
Her lips were shaking but she had spoken, "E-even when we had it tough in those last years that you were with us, you belong in the memories of my heyday. You are my childhood and you complete the whole picture of our family. So please never think that you are weak. You are unlike the others and that made you super special. You take care of us with that special love, not the money. You taught me love. You had prepared this little princess to be strong today."
She steps backward to lower herself down and bows her head in reverence. "Thank you for your sacrifices, everything you give and give up just to make us who we are right now. Please enjoy your rest now." She lifts her head to see him for a goodbye.
Then she realized that 'yes, this is a dream,' she thought and she woke up.
"Call," she muttered as she opened her eyes.
She'll tell her mom about it when they have a chat, maybe next week but most probably it'll be because of the exhausting issue.
The alarm is still ringing while she stares blankly at the ceiling. She reaches for her phone and then turns it off. Then check the inbox to see if there are any notifications. There is a message from the boss saying, "Your proposal was approved." It was good news but instead of joy, anxiety runs over her body.
On the physical level it is a good thing but on the spiritual level. It is a bad thing. It means exposure to the spirits—why does she have to select the abandoned places? Was it because her protagonist is an INTJ-T person, or was it because she made the story a suspense horror? She doesn't know that her situation will worsen.
She prepared herself to go to work.
A blissful congratulations welcome her but all of it means nothing but trouble now.
She smiled. The common mask everyone always wears.
Is her body preparing for an anxiety attack or another panic attack? No. The team will soon start the audition for the cast of the project. Everything is going smoothly. She remained seated and began to follow what she saw on the physical level and get over the spiritual flow and that's the attitude because she's used to it. The same approach she did before.
Hazel bumped into her teasingly at the cafeteria. "Hey!" was her reaction. "What was that for?" She said after the aggressive endearing gesture.
She moved closer and whispered, "Have you heard about the newbie?"
"What newbie?" she muttered, dazed off, stressed with a little messy morning hair.
"No. Haven't heard of it and I don't care," she said as she continued eating.
"They said he is a total hottie," Hazel said.
She really doesn't give any f* about it. "So, it's a he," thinking, "and now what? Is she squeezing a typical expected reaction from her? '
"Oh really? Was he tall? Handsome? Sexy? A badass, a f*ckboy, and will he totally ghost you after days of conversation?" she said with a changing tone as if it caught her interest, then asserted to her friend that she should be aware that looks are deceiving.
"You are so bitter; even though your previous relationship didn't work, you should at least appreciate things and admire beauty in people," she said.
"I am no longer bitter. I am just saying I am helping you to open your eyes. You are living in a modern world where technologies are advancing, even though the governments are corrupt. Those who are good-looking are the people you should be most cautious with because they have the assets to play the game and if they will look for someone to be in a relationship with, do you think they will take someone below their level? And lastly, I admire beauty in people, not just beautiful people," she said as her usual logical perspective.
But her friend had already set her mind to not listen to her. "Oh my gosh, Debbie, if you end up with a beast-looking guy, you don't even know the person yet," she said. Swearing that if she gets close to the guy, she'll show her how nice he is and prove to Debbie that she is wrong.
"Sorry, not really interested and besides, I'm too old for that and I am merely giving you reminders. You go and get to know this guy; he seems to be close to your age," she said to her young adult co-worker and then she moved away. Hazel had this obsession with older guys so probably this guy is closer to her age. However, that person is still single or has a girlfriend because you know the wild trend nowadays.
Hazel's sound and reaction give off her disappointment. "That's why you're still single," she said.
She stood up to return the tray and at least then strode back to her station. Hazel is still tailing her, continuously chattering, "Everyone says that gives off that male lead, solemn, ethereal, mysterious vibe."
'Yeah, someone just came out of the book,' she thought.
They went into the locker area. "And he will be someone who will make you wear a white dress in the future," Debbie said.
Hazel totally agrees.
"Yes, a mental patient's attire," she muttered clearly.
Hazel's loud no was heard. Debbie hushed her. "I swear if you are able to get closer to that newbie and gain a mental health condition, don't come ranting to me. I swear I will scold the hell out of ya!" she said. "What's his department again?" Debbie asked.
"Props department," Hazel said.
"Okay, the newbie of the Props department," she said, clarifying.
Hazel went to the comfort room before returning, while Debbie was left in the locker area fixing her stuff. The locker door beside her closed and there is someone standing from the props department. She, of course, knows the people in the props department; whenever necessary, she went there to help with the props since she is the scriptwriter. So she told that young man to hush randomly. He had been standing there before they arrived so he must have heard everything they talked about.
At least, that's what she thought—that she could control someone's mouth based on their standing and personality. She is his senior.