The Felt-Too-Real Dreams and Tragic Reality

The night fell peacefully over the land. The wind blew slowly, making sounds when playing with the leafs. A girl with denim hair was standing on the corner, her face looked pale. Her jade colour eyes went left and right, roaming around the familiar room. Her anxiety took over when she started to walk through the hallway, wishing her felt-too-real dream would be different that night.

"They are merely human. A normal human. They have no power," a woman whispered. In her parents bedroom, she saw a pair of human hugged each other in the corner, shook by fear.

"I know dear. I know. But they saw us killed the Minister," answered a husky voice. He laughed. "We shall not leave any witness, shall we?"

"Please. Spare our life," the man whispered as the woman cried silently.

"They can't possibly harm us, Pazzo."

"Ssshhh," he grinned menacingly. "We shall not leave even a single ant."

In a blink of eyes, the pair was already lying lifelessly on the floor. Blood pooled around the dead body along with Pazzo's laughter that echoed in the empty room. Little did he know that a little girl was hiding in the closet, silently witnessing every seconds.

The denim hair girl felt her chest tightened and her visions becoming blur. Suddenly, she find herself sat on her bed after having a nightmare. She was breathless with sweats covered her fair skin and tears begun to dry on her cheek. Her denim hair was damped and her head was spinning. The flashback felt too real to be ignored.

The room was dark and quiet. The only sound she could hear was her own breath and heartbeat. She took a deep breath then sighed. Her wet fingers stroked her hair, closing her eyes in process, trying to calm her heartbeat.

After another sigh, she left her bed. Her light footsteps echoed in the room. She stopped her feet right before the door, contemplating whether she should left her room or not.

She shook her head and rubbed her eyes then turned the door knob, trying her best to left her room silently. The wooden floor creaked lightly in her every steps and echoed in the empty hallway. She shouldn't make any noise, the least she wanted was to wake the entire house up.

"Do you need something, dear?" asked a soft voice from the kitchen. Clicking sound of silver spoon against ceramic came from the cup on the table.

She stopped her feet on the doorway, staring at a red hair middle aged woman in an apron smiled at her. Even from the doorway she could see that woman wrinkled skin clearly.

"You are still awake?" the denim hair girl asked her back, dragged her feet slowly into the kitchen. "You should be resting by now, Aunt Mary."

"I knew you might have a nightmare. It's already happening for thirteen years now."

She smiled weakly then sat on a stool near the kitchen table.

"I wish I wasn't born with this power."

The woman sighed then place her palm on her cheek, "You shall not regret your gift. You need to use it for good, Carol."

Said girl closed her eyes. The sudden smell of blood made her brows furrowed. Her heart beat so fast and it made her breathless. A devastating scene crossed her mind.

She heard a familiar voice screamed, "Take her anywhere."

When she tried to figure out what was happening the same woman shriek, "Somewhere save!"

"No!" the girl tried to break free. "Let me go!"

"Hurry!"

"Aunt Mary, no!" Carol screamed. "No!"

Two men dragged her forcefully, grasping her arms so tight that she could feel the pain in her arms. The burning fire behind them, swallowed her voice and the bloody room. A weak smile was the last thing she saw before everything was engulfed by the fire.

"No!"

Carol opened her eyes again, tried her best to catch her breath. She knew that she came back to reality. A single tear fell afterwards. Sweats covered her forehead. The scene was too painful. Too real.

"What was that?" she mumbled, trying to catch her breath. "A foresight?"

"Are you okay, darling? You look so pale."

"Aunt Mary," called Carol, still in a daze.

"Hm?" the woman wiped her wet hand on her apron. "What is it?"

"We need to go."

"Oh, you are sleepy already?"

"No," she bit her lip, her eyes moved left and right nervously. "I mean we should leave the house."

The middle aged woman eyes widen, "You saw your first prophecy after so long?"

"I'm not sure either," she stammered. "But it was so real. And frightening."

A long pause, her eyes almost popped.

"Aunt Mary, if you don't-"

"Of course I believe you, " the woman cut her sentences. "Lets go. We need to wake your uncle and your cousin."

Aunt Mary begun to remove her apron.

"But," the woman stopped her hand. "I'm not sure when or where the scene will be occurred."

Her voice was trembling, tears were threatening to fall. She was afraid to accept that her first prophecy after so long would be that kind of disaster. Because she couldn't tell anyone who would be the one to die in the scene. She had no power to deal against fate because it was the curse that came along with the gift.

"You shall not tell about death, mate or fortune. Only God who has the power to do so," said her mother one evening when she was a kid.

"Then why do people like us exist?" she asked.

"To lead people so they don't need to go through a painful death, a painful heartbreak or a painful greed."

"I don't understand," said Carol while recalling what her mother said. She felt a little clench in her heart, also recalling the days back then when she got prophecies but couldn't do anything.

"Get a grip sweetheart," a pat on her back from her aunt's wrinkly hand pulled her from her thought. "Don't worry. Lets pack only important things."

Carol nodded then walked past the hallway as fast as she could. She tried to remember some details from her foresight but she just couldn't. Tears threatened to fall as she yanked open her backpack. She just need some necessary things like her wallet and ID card, shoved any simple clothes and her "must-brought" hoody. Her hair was just too recognizable. Carol gripped her necklace given by her late mother then whisper, "I don't want to lose her, Mom."

A reluctant knock was heard on her door, "Are you ready, dear?"

Carol tried her best no to cry, there was no time to be sentimental. She just thought that maybe, just maybe, God would let her changed her aunt's fate if only she could get stronger.

"Bam!" a loud noise came from their front door, Carol's eyes widened. She heard some hurried footsteps in the hallway.

"We should go," a man with black and white beard appeared with a much younger guy behind him. "They are here."

Carol couldn't move her feet. She was trembling because she could clearly hear some whispers from the front door. It was the same voice from few years back, her parents murderer.

"Carol, come on," said Aunt Mary softly. "We should go."

"Yes," Carol mumbled.

She bit her lower lip to keep her focus. Her first steps was heavy but she could hear some footsteps getting closer. Carol followed her aunt hurriedly to the back door. When they were so close to the back door, it fell apart with a loud "boom!", sending Aunt Mary backwards. Soon enough, her hand and abdomen were covered with blood. It was a trap, those footsteps were illusions.

"Take her anywhere," the older woman screamed. "Somewhere save."

"No!" the girl tried to break free. "Let me go!"

"Hurry!"

"Aunt Mary, no!" Carol screamed. "No!"

The man with beard and the younger one dragged her forcefully, grasping her arms so tight that she could feel the pain in her arms. Loud booms and burning fire behind them, swallowed her voice and the bloody room. A weak smile was the last thing she saw before everything was engulfed by the fire.

"No!"

Stream of tears covered Carol's pale face as she was being dragged. They ran into the wood because the last thing they wanted was too harm civilians.

Far enough into the wood, they slowed down to catch their breath, burning night sky faded behind them. Carol couldn't keep her composure anymore. She let her body fell onto the ground, cried her heart out.

"Here," the younger one gave her a water bottle. "Take a deep breath and clam down."

"How could you be this calm? She is your mother," she howled.

"Keep on being like that to lure them to us, will you?" he hissed bitterly.

"Stop arguing," the elder deep voice stopped them. "Carol, look at me."

The man took Carol's face in his palms and took a deep breath. A cold sensation gushed over her whole head until he let go.

"Your jade eyes and your denim hair attract too much," said him breathlessly. "We could walk slower after this."

The girl, now with ginger hair and hazel eyes, cried even more. Her head was a complete mess; guilt, anger, sorrow, and frustration took turn on controlling her.

"Have you seen a seer before, Mom?" a flash of curious little Carol slowly seeping in her head. "You said they were powerful."

Carol rembered how her mother seemed reluctant before taking her daughter on her lap and answered, "I have."

"For real?" Carol's eyes widened.

"Of course," her mother chuckled, liking her daughter's reaction. "Why?"

"Were they really powerful?" little Carol asked eagerly. "Wait. How could you tell that they are a seer? They were only legend after all."

"Seer wouldn't go unnoticed by other power holder, dear. Of course I can tell, I am a shaman after all."

"That couldn't possibly answer my curiosity, Mom," her little daughter huffed dramatically. "I want an explanation."

Her mom laughed.

"Then why they are the most powerful?" asked little Carol once again.

"Because they are gifted. They were born that way."