As I slowly opened my eyes, I found myself once again enveloped in the dream of darkness. Their depths are unfathomable and ever-changing. No matter how many times I returned to this place, I could never quite shake off the unsettling feeling that it evoked within me.

This dream of darkness was a paradox, its nature unpredictable. It doesn't always act in one pattern. Even after all this time, I still couldn't understand this darkness.

Sometimes it pursued me relentlessly, as if intent on shattering me into a thousand fractured pieces. Other times, it cradled me in its obsidian embrace, offering a strange sense of solace and comfort amidst the chaos. 

Its gaze was both scorching and piercing, laying bare my vulnerabilities and fears, yet also tender, its empathy attempts to mend my broken spirit. In the dream, I felt the pull of darkness, whispered of self-destruction yet breathed life into my weary soul.

In the midst of this murky dreamscape, comfort isn't the only thing that happens. Fragments of memories flickered like ghostly images before my eyes. As if they whispered and insisted on me. "That's not you. That's not Bian, but someone else." These words echoed inside my mind, leaving me with a sense of uneasiness.

I took a deep breath after staying silent for a few minutes, and questioned the darkness. "This is all just a figment of my imagination, right? The memories I always see are mine, right?" Yet, there was no response, only the heavy weight of the darkness around me.

Sinking to the ground, I let out a weary sigh and waited, my heart heavy with unanswered questions. What secrets did this dream hold? What truths lay veiled beneath its shadowy surface? 

As soon as I braced myself for whenever this dream world would unveil, I let go of those thoughts,l. And waited for what fragments of memory it was going to show me now. 

I can't wake up from this dream, until someone calls me or until its conclusion. So I take my time to observe the new student who has left a profound mark on me today.

There is a student from our class who knows her, a connection from their elementary school days, which seems to help her swift adjustment to this new environment.

As she effortlessly interacts with her peers, drawing them in with grace, she resembles a flower that effortlessly attracts bees. 

She is the polar opposite of me. If our paths had crossed years ago, I would have never envisioned. Few teachers already recognize her due to her family background, ensuring a smooth path ahead for her in this school. 

While her future seems promising, I want a glimpse of something good, something meant for me, seeking a ray of light in my own journey.

"Bian, wake up. We're outside your house," Uncle's voice wakes me from my dream.

"Huh. Yes, uncle," I mumbled, rubbing my eyes as I got off from the bus. The bus driver, accustomed to my routine, however he still asked, "Why do you always fall asleep right after getting on the bus?"

"I'm perpetually tired. What can I do? It's a four-hour journey from home to school and back," I replied.

"True," the driver acknowledged as I bid him farewell, knowing he'd wait until I entered my building before driving off. There are still a few students in the bus, it would take another half-hour before he reached home.

My apartment is on the 4th floor, and there is no elevator, so I need to use the stairs.

Meant a taxing climb up the stairs after a long day.

….Ding….dong….

"Who is it?"

"It's me, Mom."

....Click….

"Do you want to eat something?" Mom asked.

"No, I'm going to sleep."

"Okay."

"Siiiiiiiiiiis."

"Wait, don't hug me now. Let me freshen up first."

"Tell us everything you did at school." All of them looked at me with curiosity therefore I just smiled at them. 

"Later, I'm tired now. Vivi and Zain, how was your school today?"

Their eyes lighten up with spark as such they are waiting for me to ask them. "Much better. Do you want to know what happened in our school?"

Their eyes sparkled with stories they were eager to share, but I'm drained and need to rest. My schedule is already packed up. I need to sleep. And I don't know what type of dream I'm going to see this time.  

Every time I attempt to sleep, the dream ensnares me. So, I can't even say I'm having a proper rest. Sometimes it feels like my soul just drifts aimlessly. When did this all begin? Ah, it started five years ago. At first, I was afraid of dreams. Now, I'm just waiting to see if I'll ever have any normal dreams again.

A wishful thought, indeed, as darkness envelops me now. An eerie sensation creeps over me, urging me to run, yet I am fixed in this place. This darkness has never been easy when I'm at home. It's even more menacing than any dream I had on the bus.

My body is already paralyzed. The darkness has taken the shape of a hands, restraining me. It sometimes seems to convey a message, but its words never reach me. I endure, offering silent prayers, hoping for either a swift end to this dream or someone wake me up. 

Unfortunately, no one will wake me up for another two hours. Even though it only takes two hours for my physical body, here it feels like the weight of years have passed in torment.

...Cough… Cough…

Tears are flowing down my cheeks. I'm trying to free myself from their grasp. If they want my demise, then please, just let it be. Why are they making me suffer so much?

….Click...

Something is approaching me, slowly taking steps toward me. 

….Click….Click….

The sound sends shivers down my body. I try to close my eyes, not wanting to see or hear. But I can't close them. Those hands of darkness lift my face to see what's coming.

….Click….Click….

Darkness has taken the form of a body and is moving towards me. I wish I could close my eyes. “I..I..I don't want to see you here again, Mom.” I stammer, my voice quivering.

Her hand reaches for my throat, tightening its grip as accusation fills the air. "Why did you do this?" her voice resonates with anguish.

"I didn't mean to... I had no ch—"

"How could you?" her words pierce through me, drowning out my explanations.

"Please, listen... I never meant for this," I implore, desperation lacing my pleas.

Her eyes bore into mine, a storm of questions unleashed in her cries of "Why? Why? Whyyyyy?"

"Mom, please, listen... I—" a strangled gasp cuts through my words.

...Cough… Cough… Cough…

"Sis, wake up, please wake up!"

Gasping for air, I struggle to discern reality from the lingering of the dream.

...Ha... Ha... Ha...

(Who calls out to me?)

"Sis....sniff... Mom, Something's wrong with Sis."

I can't hear anything. 

...Ha... Ha... Ha... Ha...

…This Dream…