I had spent the whole day researching any possible explanation to what we were experiencing. It was an inexplicable feeling of connectedness that I could not shake off.

The moment of truth had been seeing her again after closing my eyes at night. Her short orange hair framing her face, a face that held so much mystery and intrigue. I wondered what her story was, what secrets she kept hidden behind those eyes.

I learned that she spent hours crawling under seats, looking for things that made her feel less alone in the bus. As I watched her, I realized that we shared a common feeling of being out of place. It was a feeling that was hard to comprehend, but it was real.

Her sweet demeanor and infectious smile drew me in, but I knew I had to stop thinking about her in that way.

"Are you sure these things are not just decorations?” I asked after she showed me the trinkets she had collected. “You don’t recognize any of this?” She shook her head. I took a closer look all the things and noticed that they indeed felt different, more 'real’ than the bus seats of the windows. It was as if each trinket had a story to tell, a history that had already served its time and expired.

“Decorations like, to make it look more realistic? Like a video-game?” She asked, I nodded. “It looks out of place, like your notebook. I think someone was here before us.”

It was almost as if they were intentionally left there, as a clue for us to find, or at least to show us we weren't alone in this journey.

It was as if her words were filling in the gaps of my own thoughts, connecting pieces of the puzzle that I hadn't been able to see before. As she finished, I found myself nodding in agreement, my own eyes meeting hers in a moment of shared understanding. In that moment, I realized that perhaps we were not so different after all, and that there was much more to our connection than I had initially thought.

“Then why are we here now? And why us?” I asked, my anxiety beginning to bubble up inside me.

I tried to calm myself by taking a deep breath and looking out the window, but it didn't help. I needed answers.

I pulled out the notebook from my pocket, hoping it would shed some light on our situation. My companion leaned in closer, her eyes fixed on the pages. A part of me was convinced I would find something useful there, after all, it was supposed to contain a

Was it fate that brought us together in this moment? Or was it mere coincidence? Questions raced through my mind as I searched for clues in the scrawled handwriting. Despite the fear and uncertainty, I knew one thing for sure - we had to stick together if we were going to make it out of this alive.

“How are you able to bring stuff if we’re asleep?” She asked, almost in a whisper. I felt her knee touching mine and I suddenly had to gulp.

“I don’t bring it, it just appears here” I said, my voice sounding both raspy and nervous. I took a deep breath and continued, “You see, it's like my brain has a mind of its own and it's interpreting my subconscious thoughts.” I made another pause, unsure if it was even worth to explain. When I heard all of that come out of my mouth, it sounded almost stupid. Who needed its brain to explain their own feelings? “It helps me to understand my emotions, I suppose, and get a clearer picture of what I am thinking and feeling.”

She looked at me with surprise and almost admiration for a few seconds before continuing, but my self-doubt was focused in making me think she was mocking me, deep inside.

“And what about the drawings? Are those part of your day too?” She asked and I was pleasantly surprised when she sounded genuinely interested in knowing the answer.

“Yeah. I don’t know. I guess I’m just a visual person.”

She moved her head even closer to mine, her breath warm against my cheek. The scent of her hair, a mix of lavender and wet grass, filled my nostrils. I couldn't help but notice how soft it looked, almost begging to be touched. It was tickling my neck, or maybe it was my own and I was imagining things.

As I flipped through the pages, my heart racing with excitement, I finally found what I had been searching for. The words on the page seemed to jump out at me, a summary of all the things I had researched. I read the words out loud, my voice barely above a whisper, as if afraid to break the spell.

Throughout history, people have been fascinated with the idea of meeting up in dreams. This has been referred to as astral projection by some and reality shifting by others.

Some individuals even believe that they possess telekinetic abilities. As for myself, I too found it intriguing, but my rational mind often laughed at the idea of such things taking place in real life, especially with someone I had never met before.

But it felt so real, she was there, she was real.

“How can you read those?” Her voice startled me. I turned my head towards her and my nose graced hers. I fought the urge to pull back just when I realized she didn’t. “I… It’s just gibberish to me. Right now I was trying to read it but the words are not real words.”

Her lower lip began to tremble ever so slightly. It was as if she was trying to hold back her emotions, but they were simply too strong to contain. For some reason, I felt time slow down.

It made perfect sense that we were in a dream. In real life, things like this simply didn't happen. But in this dream world, anything was possible. And as we stood there, frozen in time, I felt like I wouldn't mind staying there forever.

But I forced myself out the illusion and my lips started moving almost on their own.

“I can read them fine, maybe you can’t because it’s something made just for me”. I explained this in a low voice, trying not to disrupt the moment. “But it’s just sentences that help me remember what went on today. I was looking for some info on all of this.”

“Today?” We were talking in whispers at this point, she seemed confused.

“When I woke up, before appearing here again. I decided to browse a few websites on dreams, you know, to understand what happened with us.” It felt redundant to explain it to her, I wasn’t sure why she seemed so puzzled. “What did you do?”

“After you left I grew bored and collected the things.” She pointed slowly at the bits of trash she had found earlier. “And then just kind of dozed off.”

“No but, when you woke up. Don’t you have anything like my notebook? That lets you unwind about your day?” I couldn’t be the only weirdo that needed something like that.

She became so pale, her skin had taken on an almost translucent quality, and she was now biting her lips. I followed her gaze as her eyes moved towards her wrist, as if searching for a watch that was clearly not there. She looked around us, scanning the area in search of something that, most likely, she wasn't going to find. The tension in the air was thick, palpable...

“You don’t remember?” I asked, carefully. She shook her head.

“I haven’t woken up yet, since the last time we met.” She didn’t look scared, at least not yet. Only mildly worried.

“When did you get down from the bus? How did you come back?” I wanted to make sure that I wasn't coming across as too intrusive, but at the same time, I felt that it was important to ask at least something.

“Jasper, I never got down. The doors wouldn’t open. I was just here, and got bored, and didn’t know what to do and…”

That feeling again.

That same sensation crawling up my skin. It was almost like a warning, trying to tell me that the time was about to come. My heart started beating faster as I tried to calm myself down. I took a deep breath, but my mouth suddenly became dry and I felt a lump in my throat. I couldn't go just yet.

Chiara was starting to breathe harder and faster, her chest moving violently. I couldn't help but feel a pang of worry.

Was she having an asthma attack? Or was it something else? My mouth had gone dry, but it was hard to tell if it was because of the panic that was slowly creeping up my own chest, or the fact that I had been holding my breath for what felt like forever.

Despite the sense of imminent danger, an illogical part of me couldn't help but think that there had to be a reason for us to be there, in that moment, sharing that experience. Maybe it was fate. Or maybe it was something else entirely.

We just needed something to point us in the right direction.

Something that could explain why us, why then. Why, after several weeks of appearing in the same stupid bus, we were now meeting each other again and again. There had to be some sort of explanation, something that maybe I wasn’t going to find in books or online.

And it all had to start with her.

With the redhead that was about to have a panic attack next to me.

And the tingling sensation all over my skin.

The bus stopped with a sudden jerk and I instinctively reached out and grabbed her hand without a second thought. As our fingers intertwined, I could feel comfort and familiarity wash over me. I looked over at her and noticed that she seemed taken aback by it, but as she looked into my eyes, but at least her anxiety started to dissipate.

“What are you doing?” She asked as I jolted from the seat.

“Come with me?” I asked, but it sounded more like an order. She blushed and stood up, without questioning me. “You said the doors didn’t open again after I left, I wouldn’t want you to be trapped here again.” I tried to explain with a gentle voice, have her understand I wasn’t just trying to boss her around.

She smiled and put pressure in my hand, nodding.

“Where are we going?” Her voice was barely audible, like she was a young child who knew she was doing something wrong but was too curious to resist.

She looked around at her surroundings, doubting herself for a split second. The air was thick with tension.

“I think… I’m taking you to my dreams” I answered and stepped out the bus.

She became pale again.

"Is there something wrong?" I asked, and my voice trembled. Even if I wanted to pull away, her grip on my hand was firm.

"It's so high. I'm going to fall," she whispered, her voice shaking with fear. She looked down at the floor like she was on top of a mountain. She started trembling.

“Hey, no. It’s okay. It’s right here” It was just one step, she only needed one step to be free.

The doors of the bus tried to close.

Without even thinking, I found myself unconsciously reaching out to her, my arms going around her waist and pulling her closer to me. Closing into a hug I didn't even realize I had been needing for a very long time.