As I open my eyes, I find myself once again in the dream. Its depths feel unfathomable, constantly shifting. No matter how many times I return to this place, I can never quite shake the unsettling feeling it evokes within me. It never fades. Yet it never grows familiar either.

This dream is always drowning in shadows. No matter where I look, nothing exists but darkness. 

That is why I call it the ‘Dream of Darkness.’

This dream is a paradox, its nature unpredictable. It does not always follow one pattern. Even after all this time, I still cannot understand this dream or those shadows.

I glance to my side as the shadows shift without form or direction, and yet I am surrounded by them.

Sometimes, it hunts me relentlessly, as if intent on shattering me into a thousand fractured pieces. Other times, it cradles me in its obsidian embrace, offering a strange comfort within the chaos. 

Its gaze is both scorching and piercing—yet also tender. In the dream, I feel the darkness whisper of self-destruction, yet it also breathes life into my exhausted soul.

Comfort is not the only thing that happens.

Fragments of memories flicker before me, moments I lived, painfully familiar — yet the darkness presents them as if my own life has been misplaced, as if they belong to someone else.

(That’s not you. That’s not Bian. That’s someone else. You are—)

‘Urgh…’

My chest tightens as the chilling words repeat inside my mind, their weight sinking into my stomach.

My breaths turn shallow. I have to pull air in through my mouth, but it never feels like enough. With every echo, breathing becomes harder.

Every time it happens, I force myself to take a deep breath and question the darkness.

“This is all just part of my imagination, right? The memories I keep seeing are mine… right?”

But the darkness always answers me with suffocating silence. Only the weight of the shadows presses around me.

Sinking to the ground, I let out a weary sigh and wait. Today too, my heart is heavy with unanswered questions. 

What secrets does this dream hold? What is it trying to show me?

As I brace myself for whatever this dream world decides to unveil. A dull pressure forms behind my eyes, spreading slowly through my head, not painful, but persistent enough to make me aware of every breath. My shoulders tense without me noticing.

Hah… forget it.

I just watch the memory fragment and try not think about anything else. Thinking too much never helps me.

‘Anyway, what is it going to show me today?’ 

I won’t wake up until someone calls me, or until the dream ends on its own. So I take my time watching the new student.

“I didn’t even realize she left an impression on me… otherwise, this dream wouldn’t bother showing her fragment.”

A student from our class knows her from elementary school, which seems to help her adjust swiftly to the new environment. She interacts with everyone effortlessly, drawing them in with grace. 

“She somehow resembles a flower that naturally attracts bees.” 

She is the polar opposite of me. If we had met years ago, I would never have been envious of this. Not like now.

While her future seems bright, I want a glimpse of something good—something meant only for me. Just a ray of light…

“Bian, wake up. We’re outside your house.”

Uncle’s voice pulls me from the dream.

“Huh… yes, Uncle,” I mumble, rubbing my eyes as I step off the bus. The bus driver, who already knows about my routine, still asks,

“Why do you always fall asleep right after getting on?”

“I’m just tired. What can I do? It’s a four-hour journey from home to school and back,” I reply.

He nods, “True.”

Uncle waits until I enter my building before driving off. There are still a few students left. It's gonna take another half hour before he reaches home.

I turn to look up at the building and feel even more tired than before.

“Hah… now I have to climb the stairs.”

Why does fixing an elevator take an eternity?

Ding-dong…

“Who is it?”

“It’s me, Mom.”

Click…

“Do you want something to eat?”

“No. I’m going to sleep.”

“SIIIIIIIIIIIS.”

“W…wait… Don’t hug me now. Let me freshen up first.”

“Tell us everything you did at school.”

They all look at me with curiosity, so I just smile.

“Later. I’m tired now.”

As I set my bag down, I notice Vivi and Zain’s expressions dull slightly. The excitement fades from their eyes.

I smile despite myself.

“Vivi, Zain, how was your school today?”

Their eyes light up with sparks, as if they were waiting for me to ask.

“It was great! Do you want to know what happened?”

Their eyes glitter with stories. Their enthusiasm almost wakes me up. I let them talk, nodding along, even as exhaustion drags at me.

My schedule is already packed. I need to sleep. And I also need to prepare myself for the dream that's waiting for me.

Every time I try to sleep, the dream traps me. I can’t even call it rest. Sometimes it feels like my soul just wanders aimlessly. 

When did this all begin? 

‘.......Five years have already passed!’

It’s been so long, yet the fear has never dulled, only changed shape.

In the beginning, I was terrified of these dreams. Now, I am just waiting to see if I will ever have a normal dream again. 

Hah… indeed, a wishful thought. Because as soon as I close my eyes, the darkness envelops me.

An eerie sensation creeps over me, urging me to run, yet I remain fixed in place. This darkness is never easy when I’m at home; it is far more menacing than any dream I have on the bus or anywhere else. 

Shadows shape themselves into countless hands, wrapping around my arms and torso, restraining me. Sometimes it seems to say something, but its words never reach me.

I endure, offering silent prayers. But unfortunately, no one will wake me for another two hours.

Even though it is only two hours for my physical body, here it feels like the weight of years has passed. As if the dream wants to age my soul while my body sleeps untouched outside.

Cough…

Tears stream down my cheeks as I twist and strain against their grip. If they want my demise, then please—just let it be. Why do they make me suffer so much?

Click-clack…

Something approaches, taking slow and deliberate steps.

Click-clack…

The sound sends a chill over my body. I try to close my eyes, cover my ears, not wanting to see or hear—but I can’t. The hands of darkness lift my face, tightening my hands, forcing me to see what’s coming.

Crrk… crrrkk…

The shadows twist and knot, merging and separating in a grotesque rhythm. A brittle cracking slices through the dark, the sound vibrating through my teeth and into my skull, making my stomach lurch. 

The shadows begin to take shape. Limbs slide out of the mass, bending in ways a body never should, moving slow, jerky, and wrong—like a puppet pulled by invisible strings.

Pale Streaks slide down its face, seeping into the shadows below and blurring the edges of its form. The face wavers, like it’s struggling to hold together. It watches me, silent and unyielding.

Its tears feel heavier than any scream, pressing into me like a silent accusation. Terror clamps down on my chest. I try to look away, but my eyes won’t obey.

“I…… I don’t want to see you here again, Mom.”

Her hand reaches for my throat, tightening its grip.

(Why did you do this?) Her voice resonates with anguish.

“I didn’t mean to… I had no cho—”

(How could you?)

Her words won't just pierce through me. They rip through me like claws made of grief. She doesn’t want to hear my explanations.

“Please, listen… I never meant for this,” I plead, desperation lacing my voice.

(Why?)

Her voice cracks.

(Why?)

Her face contorts, twisting into something human and not human.

(WHYYYYY?)

Her scream vibrates through the darkness, shaking the ground beneath us.

“Mom…please…just listen. I—”

My voice breaks, strangled by the terror crushing my throat.

As her grasp tightens, it isn’t the anger that chills me; rather, it is the ominous shift in the atmosphere… a terror that creeps into my limbs, heavy and unavoidable.

The sudden disappearance of air leaves me gasping, a suffocating emptiness crushing my chest from the inside.

Gasp…

“Sis, wake up! WAKE UP!”

Air rushes back into me in a violent shudder, leaving my whole body trembling as the nightmare tears itself away from me. My body refuses to calm down.

Her face…Why does it have to be her face again?

Even after all this time, just seeing her makes something inside me collapse. My breath breaks again. A quiet, helpless sound slips out, one I can’t swallow back.

“Mom…”

“Sis… Sis, look at me!”

Cough…

Who… is calling me?

“Sis… sniff… Mom… something’s wrong with Sis!”

I don’t know whose voice I’m hearing — my siblings… or the shadows pretending to be them.

Ha…

Ha…

Ha…

This dream… How much longer am I supposed to endure it?.... No, how much longer can I endure it?