I do not own Narnia.

Lucy Penesieve set her pen down on the sheaf of paper and glanced at the topic she was given to write. She cast a wondering eye over it as she debated what to write upon.

Suddenly, on an impulse, Lucy started writing furiously, allowing herself to pour her inner thoughts about the topic.

Dreams.

I have dreamt many times in my life. When I was young, I dreamt of monsters beneath my bed and chasing me about. It was a childish nightmare and one that could be easily put at ease when my mother would come in to pat me gently as I awoke with frightened, wide eyes.

When I was older and had became a Queen, I dreamt of my parents living together with me once more. It was a marvelously sweet dream, one that I would always long for in my waking moments as I went about my duties.

Nowadays, I dream of the talking beasts and swaying dryads. It is a beautiful dream while it lasted but whenever I awake, a bitter resentment would fill me deep in my heart. I dread and long for this dream which would sweep me back into the kingdom of Narnia. It is a conflicting sensation of both joy and sorrow for what I dream of is not merely the good days but also the bad days. However, that is what that makes it all the sweeter and the bitter.

How ironic.

I will dream of my siblings and I back in Cair Paravel, where we would be still ruling over Narnia in its Golden Age. And joy oh joy! Susan will be there as well, the kind and caring Queen Susan the Gentle! Not the practical and flirtatious Susan whose only care is about the latest fashion and gossips.

She will be there, smiling her trademark gentle smile. She will be there, advising me as I stepped into the threshold of womanhood. She will be there, laughing along with us as we rode through the forest in one of family outings. She will be there.

But do not be mistaken, I do not only dream of Susan, I dream about other things as well.

I dream of welcoming Peter back from one of the border conflicts. I dream of Edmund grousing as a new batch of ambassadors arrived. I dream of, well, Susan rejecting her long line of suitors gently but firmly. I know this is contradicting of what I previously just wrote but bear with me. I am merely writing down what I think with no previous planning.

Anyway, allow me to continue on.

I will also dream of the severe but chivalrous centaurs gazing at the breathtaking night sky, in particular, the centaur Oreius. He was the centaur who was the General of the army during our battle against the White Witch, the evil one. The first centaur whom I was first properly introduced to. He was, is and will always be one of my closest friends.

I will dream of the dancing dryads as well. They will sweep their braches gracefully out of the way as I make my way into the grove. Some will curtsy whereas other will bow. As for the serious and older trees, they will simply give me a sagely nod as I pass by them. When the celebrating starts, they will dance such complicated and beautiful dances that all could only stand there in silence, drinking in the moment. It was like a marvelous piece of embroidery, one that weaves such complicated patterns that to try and decipher it will result only in resigned failures.

Pardon, my words do no justice to the dryads' dances.

There will also be the fauns, minotaur and the talking beasts as they joined in the celebrations. They will dance around the groves, sometimes dancing familiar dances whereas other times simply dancing their hearts out. It is so exhilarating and joyful.

I still dearly dream of Mr Tumnus, he is the first friend that I met in Narnia after all. I dream of him playing the melodies on his lovely flute, melodies that is always so warm and friendly, a stark contrast to the first melody that he played to me. Still, I suppose that is because he is feeling warm and happy now that he is no longer under the witch's control. It is a welcomed change nevertheless.

I also dream fondly of Mr and Mrs Beaver, the two of them who had offered us refuge even when there was the threat of the White Witch then.

I will dream of the memory of Mr Beaver rushing in while we were having our breakfast. He will be shouting excitedly as he gripped my hands tightly and twirled me round and round. It was not until later, when Peter, Susan and Edmund helped me to calm him down did we get the joyous news from him. It was the day of the arrival of the long-awaited Junior Beaver.

However, I dream of the less pleasant things of Narnia as well. The clang of the swords and the iron taste of blood in the air. The first war that marked the arrival of us, the children of Eve and Adam. There will also be the other skirmishes that we had with our neighboring countries as we sought to get it known to them that Narnia is not a country to be looked down upon.

There will also be the petty quarrels we had when the burden of being Queens and Kings started pressurizing us. Still, we will always make it up to one another later on. Hence, all's well, ends well.

It is always so hard to awake when the first morning light shine upon my eyes, marking the time that I have to prepare for school. Even if I was dreaming of the less pleasant parts of Narnia, I will still always want to go back into the dream. I will always hope that the dream will become a reality for I know that all unpleasant things in Narnia will eventually turn into pleasant things. It is part of the magic and allure of Narnia.

Therefore, I eagerly await each night, hoping to be able to abandon myself in the dreams of Narnia even though I will be plagued by such anguish and sorrow each morning.

It is like being addicted to drugs, it hurts you yet you desire it.

Lucy cast a criticizing eye over it as she tried to read it from her teacher's perspective.

She promptly tore it up the next moment.

Her teacher would never accept this composition. It would be labeled as childish, immature and illogical. Most likely, she would receive an immediate F for it. Worse still, her teacher might display it to the whole class as an example so that others would not commit the same mistake she did.

Lucy set a new sheaf of paper in front of her as started rewriting her composition.

Dreams.

Dreams are images and experiences that seem so real to our five senses while we are asleep. According to scientists, dreams are relayed to our conscious brain by our subconscious brain as we try to relieve our pressure…

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Hence, dreams are nothing more than a mean for our subconscious brain to have its say. Therefore, for those people who reckon dreams as something of a premonition or prophecy, they are highly mistaken.

Lucy reread her composition before giving a satisfied nod.

Yes, her teacher would accept this. It was factual, mature and most importantly, logical. Her teacher would definitely like this. In fact, she might even have a chance of getting an A+.

Lucy stapled her two pieces of paper together before tucking it into her schoolbag. She will submit it to her teacher tomorrow.