Three people , three dreams.

Stephanie's Nightmare: Hollow

Stephanie found herself standing in her opulent living room. Yet, something felt wrong. The room, usually glowing with warmth and grandeur, was dim and suffocating. Her parents stood at the far end, their backs turned to her, engrossed in conversation with Golderine.

Golderine was radiant, dressed in a gown of gold and emeralds that caught the dim light. She stood confidently, her posture that of a queen addressing her subjects. Stephanie approached cautiously, her voice breaking the silence.

"Mom? Dad?" she called, her tone tinged with unease.

Her parents turned slowly, their expressions cold and distant. Stephanie flinched, the warmth she usually saw in their eyes replaced by disdain.

"Stephanie," her mother said, her voice sharp, "can't you see we're talking to someone important?"

"Important?" Stephanie repeated, her voice trembling. She glanced at Golderine, whose lips curled into a smug smile. "She's not..."

"She's everything you're not," her father interjected, his tone dripping with disappointment. "Polite, graceful, accomplished."

Stephanie stumbled back as Golderine stepped forward. "Oh, Stephanie," Golderine purred, mock pity lacing her words. "It must be hard seeing your parents finally appreciate someone deserving of their attention."

The room began to change. The elegant furniture faded, replaced by cold, cracked tiles and peeling wallpaper. Stephanie's designer clothes transformed into rags. She looked down, her hands trembling as the weight of the moment crushed her.

"I... I built this life!" Stephanie cried. "This is mine!"

Golderine laughed, a cruel, echoing sound that filled the room. "Not anymore," she said, waving her hand. Stephanie watched helplessly as her parents knelt before Golderine, offering her the keys to their mansion, their bank accounts, their lives.

"You'll never be enough, Stephanie," Golderine whispered. "And now, you're nothing."

The weight of the golden chandelier above her seemed ready to crash, its glimmer mocking her descent into irrelevance. Golderine stood tall, a figure cast in shadow and radiance, reveling in the throne Stephanie once called her own.

"Do you feel it, Stephanie?" Golderine's voice was like velvet dipped in venom. "The emptiness that gnaws at you, the realization that even your grandest dreams were hollow?"

"No," Stephanie croaked, her voice breaking. "This... this isn't real. It can't be real!"

But the mansion's walls groaned in response, as though alive, mocking her denial. Portraits of her once-flawless family hung askew, their painted faces replaced by twisted versions of themselves. Her father grinned cruelly, her mother sneered, and in the corner of one painting, Stephanie was depicted as a ragged silhouette, barely visible.

"All of this is mine ," Stephanie whispered, gripping the remnants of her fraying designer coat. "It is mine, my life ,you are a fake! "

"Your's , life and fake? Don't make me laugh" Golderine countered, tilting her head. "You know don't have life , as for all of this glimmer and shine it was never yours . You were just born and found them here.You have nothing darling."

Stephanie's knees buckled as her parents turned their backs again, retreating into the darkness with Golderine. "You're nothing but an afterthought," her mother said over her shoulder, her voice cold and final.

Golderine paused at the edge of the room, her figure glowing faintly. "This nightmare isn't a punishment, Stephanie," she said softly. "It's a revelation."

As the last light of the room flickered out, Stephanie was left alone, the suffocating weight of despair wrapping itself around her.

Julia's Nightmare: I hate bullies.

Julia stood in her childhood home, the walls pulsing with a strange, malevolent energy. She heard the sharp voice of her mother echoing from the kitchen, and her stomach churned.

"Julia!" her mother shouted. "Come here this instant!"

Julia hesitated but made her way to the kitchen. Her mother stood with her arms crossed, her face a mask of anger. Beside her, Golderine lounged on a high-backed chair, sipping tea with a look of smug satisfaction.

"Do you know what I hate most in this world, Julia?" her mother said, her voice ice-cold.

"No, Mom," Julia whispered, dread pooling in her chest.

"Bullies." The word came out like venom. "And you're the worst of them all. I can't believe I raised someone so cruel."

Tears welled in Julia's eyes. "I'm sorry, Mom. I..."

"Enough!" her mother snapped. "I can't bear to look at you anymore. Get out."

"What?" Julia gasped, her voice cracking. "You're kicking me out?"

"Yes," her mother said firmly. She turned to Golderine with a warm smile. "This is my daughter now. Someone kind, someone worthy."

Julia watched in horror as her mother embraced Golderine. "What about me?" she choked out, her voice barely audible.

"What about you?" Golderine sneered, stepping closer. "You had everything, and now it's mine."

Julia's surroundings began to crumble. The walls of her home fell away, leaving her standing in a desolate wasteland. Golderine's mocking laughter echoed around her as she sank to her knees, powerless.

Julia's wasteland wasn't silent. It was a cacophony of voices – whispers of her childhood fears, screams of her insecurities, and the constant, rhythmic chant: "Not enough. Not enough. Not enough."

She walked, barefoot and trembling, through a barren landscape littered with memories shattered like glass. Each shard reflected her face, distorted and unrecognizable. In the distance, she saw her mother's silhouette standing tall, a beacon of everything Julia had ever sought: love, approval, pride.

"Mom!" Julia cried, running forward, tears streaking down her face. "Please, I'm sorry. Let me prove myself to you."

But her mother turned away, her figure dissolving into shadow. From that shadow, Golderine emerged, dressed in a gown that shimmered like liquid silver.

"You thought love was something to be earned, didn't you?" Golderine said, circling Julia. "You tried so hard to mold yourself into the perfect daughter, but you were always destined to fail."

"No," Julia whispered, shaking her head. "I can change. I can—"

"Change?" Golderine laughed, her voice sharp. "You're a bully, Julia. You tore others down to feel taller. But now? You're the one who's small."

The ground beneath Julia's feet cracked, and she fell, plunging into a chasm filled with the echoes of her mother's disappointed voice. Above her, Golderine peered down, her smile wide and cruel.

"Enjoy the fall, Julia," she said. "It's a long way down."

Stacey's Nightmare: Queen of fake collection.

Stacey was back at school, the hallways unusually quiet. She felt eyes on her as she walked, whispers following her every step. She clutched her bag tightly, her heart pounding.

Suddenly, a voice boomed through the corridor. "Ladies and gentlemen, let's take a look at Stacey's real collection!"

Stacey froze, turning to see Golderine standing at the center of a crowd. She held up Stacey's favorite bag, a designer piece Stacey had proudly shown off to her friends.

"Fake," Golderine announced, tearing the bag open to reveal cheap material. She pulled out more bags, shoes, and accessories, exposing each as counterfeit. The crowd roared with laughter.

"No!" Stacey cried, rushing forward. "That's not true!"

"Oh, but it is," Golderine said, smirking. "You're just a fraud, Stacey. And now everyone knows."

The laughter grew louder, morphing into a deafening roar. Stacey tried to run, but her feet wouldn't move. She looked down to find herself sinking into the floor, her surroundings dissolving into darkness.

Golderine's face appeared above her, larger than life. "Your family? Mine. Your friends? Mine. Your pride? Gone."

"Please," Stacey begged, tears streaming down her face. "Stop."

"Why would I?" Golderine said, her eyes gleaming with malice. "This is only the beginning."

Stacey fell down, and dropped her head down while tears are flowing down from her eyes .

"Did you think you could hide forever?" Golderine's voice rang out, cold and merciless. "Your lies were bound to catch up with you, Stacey."

"No!" Stacey screamed, her voice hoarse. "I didn't lie! I worked for what I have!"

"Worked? ,then how about I show them what you work hard for " Golderine appeared before her, with a snap of her fingers, a glowing screen materialized, displaying moments from Stacey's life. One clip showed her taking credit for someone else's work in class; another displayed her spreading rumors to eliminate a rival. Each scene painted her as an opportunist, a fraud, someone who thrived by manipulating others.

"This isn't me," Stacey said, her voice trembling. "It's not fair!"

"Fair?" Golderine echoed, her smile widening. "Fairness was never a word you cared for when you were on top. Why cry for it now?"

The ground gave way completely, and Stacey fell into a sea of jeering faces. They were her friends, her classmates, her family – all of them chanting the same word: "Fake. Fake. Fake."

Golderine's face loomed in the sky, her laughter echoing as Stacey sank deeper. "You'll never outrun the truth, Stacey," she said. "It'll always catch you."

For Stephanie, Julia, and Stacey, waking from their nightmares brought no relief. They each sat alone in their beds, their breaths ragged, their hearts heavy with the weight of what they had experienced. The darkness of the night seemed to cling to them, a reminder that their nightmares were more than just dreams.

Stephanie couldn't shake the image of her parents kneeling before Golderine, their rejection cutting deeper than any wound. Julia's ears still rang with the chant of her own inadequacies, her mother's cold words carving scars into her soul. Stacey trembled as she replayed the scene of her humiliation, the word fake etched into her mind like a brand.

For the first time, they felt what it meant to be powerless. To be vulnerable. To be on the receiving end of cruelty.

But as the sun began to rise, casting its light over their troubled faces, a thought crept into their minds – a thought that was both terrifying and transformative. They had seen the worst parts of themselves, the shadows they had cast on others.

For now, they remained frozen, their futures uncertain. But deep within each of them, a flicker of understanding began to grow, faint but persistent. The pain they had endured was a mirror, showing them who they were – and who they could choose to become.