Abigail Romanova's Monologue and death [Nicholas Hawk 4] [Interlude]

I have always had strange dreams. Throughout my life, I don't know how many of these have occurred. Many times they were repeated, but they all had something in common. How they started.

Desolate, you could call him. There is not a single soul without counting me.

Why?

I do not know.

What's the matter?

I do not know.

What is this?

Simple to answer. This is a nightmare.

A nightmare in which I find my hands stained in blood. There is a knife on the ground. Tears fall from my eyes. As I listen to the bitter laugh that comes out of my own mouth.

That's when that dream ends.

But it's only the beginning.

When the previous one is over, I always have one more dream. A dream that has me as an additional character. In that dream that changes every time, I always find myself, everything seems to be 100% the same as in reality, but in itself, each dream has things that differentiate them.

Some examples could be the following:

My mother died in my father's place.

I did not go to the University.

I never had bad friends.

I went to Harvard with my sister.

And things like that.

But since I agreed to be Sophia's fake boyfriend... the times I have a dream related to her have increased on a terrifying scale.

Mainly.

The dreams where Sophia Miller dies are the ones that are repeated the most.

Run over.

Slaughter.

Starvation.

Bled out

Electrocution.

Drowning

Heart failure.

Brain death.

Cancer.

Constriction.

Dismemberment.

Many of these examples come to mind. It would be normal to think that I am the one who performs such acts in my dreams as to represent my resentment towards her. But it's not just about me. There have been countless of these same dreams.

They are repeated daily.

Apart from the fact that I am not the only perpetrator of those crimes. There have also been times when within those dreams I am the one who dies. Maybe I'm not the only one to die, after all.

The roulette turns and spins.

To be honest, I don't understand and I think I can't ever understand the nature of those dreams. But it's okay. Since if I understood it, it probably would have been too much for me and I would have gone mad.

It's better if you just don't get it.