As I slowly opened my eyes, I found myself once again in the dream. Its depths are unfathomable and ever-changing.

No matter how many times I return to this place, the same unsettling heaviness sinks into my chest. It never fades. It never grows familiar.

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

That’s why I began calling it—

The Dream of Darkness.

It’s a paradox, unpredictable in nature. Even after all these years, I still can’t understand the dream or the shadows that inhabit it.

Sometimes it hunts me relentlessly, as if determined to shatter me into a thousand fractured pieces. 

Other times, it holds me gently in its obsidian embrace, offering a strange comfort within the chaos.

Its gaze burns…but it also soothes. Here, the darkness whispers of self-destruction, yet somehow breathes life back into my exhausted soul.

And comfort isn’t the only thing lurking here. Memory fragments flicker before me like ghostly, broken film.

As if they whisper—

As if they insist—

“That’s not you. That’s not Bian. That’s someone else.”

The words repeat inside my mind—soft, but chilling.

The more they echo, the heavier my chest feels, as if something dark is slowly settling over me.

They feel familiar… yet wrong. Like someone rearranged my memories and left me with the pieces.

I inhale deeply and force myself to ask the darkness.

“...This is all just my imagination, right?”

The memories I see—they belong to me… don’t they?

But the darkness answers with silence. Heavy. Suffocating.

I sink to the ground, exhaling a weary sigh.

What secrets does this dream hold?

What is it trying to show me?

As I brace myself for whatever vision it will reveal —

Hah...forget it. 

I’ll just watch whatever fragment it chooses. Thinking too much never helps.

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 let myself watch the new student.

I didn’t realize she had left such an impression on me today. Otherwise, the dream wouldn’t bother showing her fragment.

A student from our class knew her from elementary school. That’s why she adjusted so quickly.

She interacts effortlessly, drawing everyone in.

She is like a flower that naturally attracts bees.

She is the complete opposite of me. If we had met years ago, I wouldn’t have felt jealous—

Not like now.

Even some teachers know her because of her family background. Her path through school will be smooth.

While her future looks bright, all I want is a glimpse of something good—

Something meant for me.

Just one ray of light…

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

Uncle’s voice pulls me out of the dream.

“Huh… yes, Uncle,” I mumble.

I rub my eyes as I step off the bus. The driver, who already knows my routine, still asks,

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

“I’m just tired all the time. What can I do? It’s four hours from home to school and back.”

He nods. “True.”

Uncle waits until I enter the building before he drives off. There are still a few students left; he won’t reach home for another half hour.

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.”

“SIIIIIIIS!”

“Wait—don’t hug me yet. Let me freshen up first.”

“Tell us everything you did at school!”

Their eyes sparkle with curiosity. I just smile.

“Later. I’m tired. Vivi, Zain—how was school today?”

They brighten instantly. “It was great! Do you want to know what happened?”

Their enthusiasm almost wakes me up… but I’m exhausted.

My schedule is already full. I need sleep.

And I need to prepare myself for the dream that’s waiting for me.

Every time I try to sleep, the dream traps me.

So I can’t even call it rest. Sometimes it feels like my soul wanders without direction.

When did this start?

Ah… five years ago.

In the beginning, I was terrified of these dreams.

Now, I just wonder if I’ll ever dream normally again.

A foolish hope.

Because as soon as I close my eyes, darkness consumes me.

An eerie sensation slithers up my spine, urging me to run—yet my body refuses to respond. 

Here, in my own home, the darkness is different… heavier, hungrier. 

It presses against my skin like something alive, far more menacing than anything that haunts me on the bus or anywhere else.

My body freezes. Shadows shape themselves into countless hands, restraining me. They move as if trying to speak, but the words never reach me.

I endure, whispering silent prayers.

Either let the dream end quickly…

Or let someone wake me.

But no one will wake me for another two hours.

Though only two hours pass in the real world, here… time stretches until it becomes unbearable. 

Minutes rot into hours, hours decay into years. 

The weight of it crushes me, as if the dream wants to age my soul while my body sleeps untouched outside.

Cough…

Tears spill down my cheeks. I struggle to break free. If the darkness wants to destroy me, then do it.

Why does it insist on making me suffer?

Click-Clack...

Something approaches. Slow, deliberate.

Click-Clack...

A chill races down my spine. I try to close my eyes, to shut it out—but I can’t. The hands lift my face, forcing my gaze forward.

Click-Clack…

The shadows begin to twist, knotting themselves into a shape—a body.

Crrk… crrrkk…

A soft, brittle cracking—like something breaking inside the dark.

Limbs slide out of the mass of shadows, bending in ways a body never should, moving with a slow, nauseating rhythm as it approaches.

Terror clamps down on my chest. I try to look away, but my eyes won’t obey… held open by fear itself.

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

Her hand reaches for my throat.

Her grip tightens. 

"Why did you do this?” 

Her voice trembles with anguish.

“I didn’t mean to… I had no ch—”

"How could you?"

Her words don’t just slice into me—they rip through me like claws made of grief.

“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.

Suddenly her grip tightens—

not in anger,

but in something far more terrifying:

Desperation.

The air vanishes.

Gasp—

My lungs seize violently.

“Sis! Sis, wake up! PLEASE!”

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

My whole body trembles, refusing to calm down.

Her face…

Why did it have to be her face again?

Even after all this time, just seeing her — even twisted, even wrong — 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!”

Their voices blur together.

I can’t hear properly.

Everything feels distant.

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

Ha…

Ha…

Ha… This dream…