Aya laid against something soft, whiteness filling her vision. She attempted to blink it away, but the absence of color remained. With effort, she rolled her head to the side, seeing her dark-skinned shoulder peek out from beneath stark white sheets. An instinct to get up was challenged by the sluggishness of her body. Taking a deep breath, she maneuvered an elbow beneath her and peered at her surroundings. Nothing but white in the…expanse she was in greeted her. Had she been able to feel anxiety, it would’ve filled her, but something was holding such emotions at bay. All Aya felt was the instinct to keep moving.

She pushed away from the plush comfort around her, a bed that seemed to long for her return with silk sheets that slid against her bare skin, inviting her to indulge in their touch. Aya usually would’ve spoiled herself with such luxury but she was not her usual self. She sat up completely, now able to see past the edge of the bed to a small haze that drifted toward her. At a distance, it would’ve been unremarkable were it not for the colorless void it stood against and the fact that it was a vibrant red. A red the color of fresh blood.

Aya’s instincts now kept her still as it drew closer. Preceding the cloud, a voice on an impossible breeze floated past her ear. “Something smells divine.” Insinuation laced the man’s sultry declaration. A woman’s question was carried on the wind. “I felt the pull, now where’s the source?” More pieces of conversation came to Aya as the cloud became amorphous “Get her.” “If he stays, so do I.” The wind began to pick up in speed and intensity. “…change what’s been done!” “…choose one or the other…” “Did you even try to s…” Aya could barely register what she was seeing and hearing anymore. The cloud was growing and violently pulling in different directions while the voices were overlapping. “…my choice be damned…” “You did this!” The voices intertwined into one desperate scream.

In a rush, all activity ceased and Aya was overwhelmed by red. There was no bed, no cloud, no voices, no wind. Only red.

Aya woke with a start, already flinging an arm out to her bedside table, grasping at a waiting notepad. Moonlight barely illuminated the room, but she was scribbling notes before the vision left her. For the briefest moment, Aya leaned sideways to paw at the wall this time. She didn’t let up her manic writing and drawing when the light threatened to blind her, only flipping to a new page.

Forty minutes passed before Aya thought she had scrubbed her brain for everything she could recall. Time was of the essence for dreamt premonitions. Actively preserving them in the moment was impossible so all one could do was focus on retaining the dream for as long as possible after awakening. No detail could escape her. Not again.

Still needing to transcribe some of the roughest bits of information she put down, Aya picked her phone up from off the ground, too frantic earlier to realize she had even knocked it down. 4:47, the time read, about an hour before the Tucson summer sun would rise and three more before she wanted to be awake. Knowing she wouldn’t be able to sleep in but bound to get more rest, Aya made haste with the rest of her notes, before turning off the burning lights and allowing exhaustion to take over her.

Aya dreamt of nothing else in her short slumber.