My eyes snap open and a large sigh escapes me. I pull off my blanket, sit myself up on the edge of the bed, and feel a shiver up my spine. “These dreams have become much more vivid,” I whisper to myself. “If only one could be pleasant.” 

I look around the dark room and feel a layer of goosebumps prickle my skin, and I reach over to grab my hoodie off the headboard while trying to wipe the sleep from my eyes. I pull the navy hoodie over my head and finally rise from the mattress, walking over to the blinds feeling the cold wooden floorboards under my feet. Hm, there’s no light coming through, don’t tell me the sun hasn’t even risen yet. My fingers meet one of the slats and slide it open, “And it is still dark. At least the moon is beginning to set.”  

I must say, this is one of the first times the cityscape has looked so quiet. I release the blinds and grab my phone off the nightstand to check the time. “3:56. Another day of sleep deprivation it is then. These damn dreams.”  

I can feel no desire in my eyes to sleep as usual, so I might as well get ready for another long day of meetings. Just three more months and I graduate. Just gotta keep pushing and I’ll be able to crawl past the finish line, but it would be nice to get a full night’s rest at least once before then. I walk over to the bathroom just to the right of my door and am blinded by the automatic lights. 

Once my eyes adjust, I find myself in the reflection of the mirror. Everyday I’m surprised by how pale my deep brown skin could get.  I take off my sleeping cap that is barely hanging on to reveal four black braids of coily hair that almost hit my shoulders. And finally, I settle on my eyes. It's like peering into the pitch-black eyes of the undead with insanely deep eye bags to match. I hiss out a small curse, usually they’re just a very dark brown that’s not as unsettling. I hope they change back before I have to leave, otherwise I’ll have to wear my glasses which will earn me a head splitting migraine. 

I grab the toothbrush and get started on my morning routine, appearing a little less dead with each step. By the end of it, I was half presentable, hair undone and my face refreshed and it is only 4:45. Five hours to kill before I have my meeting with Dr. Reenda. 

I walk out into the apartment’s living room to the sight of the remnants of books, binders, pencils, and the like spread across the table. Even the thought of last night’s exam prep pushes me to the horizon of a headache eliminating that as an option to pass the next 5 hours. My eyes scan the room for another distraction and land on the kitchen. “Food it is.” 

I make my way to the fridge and open the door to a very barren scene. Just some eggs, left over rice, and fruit. For some reason, those are the only three things I’ve been able to eat since the beginning of the semester without throwing up soon after. I grab the food and heat up a skillet from the cupboard, heat up the rice and cook two eggs for myself. I finish cooking and take my plate over to the balcony adjacent to the living room. I eat twenty floors up, sitting with my knees at my chest, watching the city below me as the sky finally starts to lose its black pigment. It make me wonder if my eyes are doing the same. The view is pretty much the only reason I chose this apartment in the first place despite the price. Anything lower made me feel like a pitiful, cornered animal. This apartment is one of the only bright things as I wait for the nephelim to come through on their promises. 

I finish the last bite of my fruit and turn to the window in an attempt to observe what I could of my face. I watch my right hand go up to meet my cheek. It’s a little pudgier than it had been before. The hand slowly moves up to my lower eyelid. It depends on the level of the dream, but usually it only takes about an hour for them to return to brown. They’ve never lasted more than a day, but this dream has to have been one of the more vivid ones.  

I return back to the serenity of watching the city flow. There’s a garbage truck driving between dozens of parked cars, slowly making it’s circuit around the blocks. Every now and then a person may come into my view walking in a hurry to their morning obligations or tiredly plodding home after finishing their night shift. It may sound bad, but it makes me feel a little better I’m not the only one buried in the stresses of life, even if my life may have some . . . different circumstances than others. I take my phone out and only forty-five minutes passed. “Still four hours to pass. What to do?” 

I open my camera app, turn up my brightness and check my eyes, immediately swearing to myself. “They haven’t even faded.” What I see in the camera can barely be called eyes. My irises are like vacuums, absorbing any hint of light, and letting nothing escape them. You can’t even see the reflection of the phone light. This doesn’t make sense. Sure the dream was vivid, but I don't even feel any excess ouwem.  

Sh*t, this is all pretty irregular. Usually this would only happen when I don’t use my uem for at least a week, but I’ve been training pretty consistently lately. On top of that, I can’t go to school like this, let alone my meeting. Frustrated, I toss my phone onto the balcony table next to my plate. I take a few deep breaths and close my eyes. If I dispel enough uem from my body, it should get rid of any signs of my power appearance wise . . . I hope. “There’s a first time for everything, I guess.”  

I look into the living room, and think about moving this little experiment inside, but the last time I tested my abilities inside, I had to move apartments. I grab my phone and set a couple of alarms for around 9 am, just in case I pass out or become separated from my body. I lay down on the concrete balcony, close my eyes, and allow myself a second of rest.  

One moment passes, and another, and I begin to lose track of time with each breath. Slowly, I feel my body become heavier, sinking into the concrete, and I feel a spirit form rise. My eyes snap open and I look down at my hands. They’ve become like white smoke. Wispy, but almost physical. I turn my attention to my physical body that now lies limp. The whites of my eyes had become nonexistent, almost as if the spheres had been removed entirely. The shadows creeped out from my eyes in jagged spiny veins across my face. My fingertips had gone black and the color began to spread like poison, crawling up my wrists. Shadows were released, consuming the floor of the balcony, stretching to the wallsI and the neighboring apartments. I’m almost mesmerized by the event. I return my eyes to my body, and I can hardly recognize myself. The veins of shadows had spread everywhere except the top of my head, so much so that it looked like I was encaged by a system of roots.  

A feeling of urgency overwhelms me. This is too much. I didn’t think it would get this out of hand. I reach for my head, in an attempt to return myself back to my body, but am stopped right in my tracks by a small voice.  

“Ammah.” At that moment, the roots surge, completing their cage, and my hair grows uncontrollably melting into the shadows. 

And everything was black. 

And in the distance, there was flashing, smoky shape. A ghostly figure. I felt myself drifting closer. As we got closer, I could see that it was phasing. Starting as a small marble, then a baby, then a small child. Too hazy to make out any features. I couldn’t help but reach out my hand, as I feel tears fall down my face. The small child’s eyes became clear, and a tiny hand materialized out of the smoke. 

“Jolie,” I hear faintly, causing me to hesitate. “Don’t.” 

But the voice was too late. 

*Ba-dum* . . . *Ba-dum* 

The child vanishes, replaced by a slow, steady heartbeat. It’s calming, and I start to lose myself. Eventually, the beat starts to become louder, all encompassing. Like the rhythm carries the weight of the world. It becomes faster, beats harder. Almost deafening, suffocating. And I realize I can’t breathe. When was the last time I took a breath? 

I start to panic. There’s a faint sound of a woman. She sounds urgent, worried. And another screams. And the heartbeats get louder. And beat harder. And I can’t move. And the women sound desperate. And I feel a tugging, pulling. And the scream is blood-curdling. 

Silence. 

“Ahhhhhhh!” A baby cries. I cry. It’s cold.

Despite the noise, I hear a woman weeping, my mother. “My daughter."

“Ewoh, your father’s men are coming!”

“Take her, run, do not let him find her, I beg of you Dineh.”

Suddenly, I hear the taps of quick footsteps and heavy breathing and I feel myself bouncing in someone’s arms. The crying continues and the farther we run, the heavier I feel the grief wash over me. 

We eventually come to a stop. The wind stops ripping, and the footsteps slow down. I feel myself laid down onto soft ground and a presence kneel next to me. My crying stops, a gentle breeze washes across my body, and sunlight warms my skin. 

“Quowah,” the women’s breath is shaky. I feel drops of water dot my face. “Great Mother, take this child under you breadth for I know a life you can give him will be better than any that he can hold in this realm. Guide this child to his great rest, if not for it’s tumultuous birth, then for the suffering my Ewoh and I have suffered by our redeemers hands. Quowah, forgive this child of yours, for having been born to complete these evil dee-”

Time stops. I try to scream, but I cannot. All I can feel is pain. Everywhere, unlike I have ever felt before. I can’t speak, scream, breathe, think. I start to forget myself and the pain became the only thing I could know

“Jolie.”