Chapter Four: The Dream
Helen walked slowly towards a tall modern building where the given apartment waited for her. As she dragged her feet, she could still hear echoes of the lovely words from everyone at the hospital: Mrs. Applegate's, Mr. Foster's, the other nurses and doctors, and, of course, Michael's.
They made her feel truly loved.
Why did I have to leave them then?
Helen knew the answer very well although she was afraid to admit it - all of them had their own lives, besides the professional one. Michael had a lovely wife who would always bring Helen fruits when she would visit her husband and two precious sons Helen saw a few times. They were so happy together.
And even though Michael had husband and father duties, he would always find enough love and support in his heart to give Helen as well. How many times had Helen imagined being a part of the Sanders family...?
There was probably no answer to that question.
Deeply lost in her thoughts, Helen didn't notice that she was already at the third floor. Her floor. She saw a white door that didn't have a name tag on it, unlike the others.
It's because nobody lives there…
Helen grabbed the key from her purse and put it into the lock. She turned the key two times and went inside.
The flat was small but arranged. It had one room which was bright and sunlit. Helen could see a nice comfortable sofa, a small table and a TV. There was a night table in one corner and a telephone on it.
Everything I need, eh…
But she could feel loneliness in there. Sour. Smell of isolation.
Helen left the bags she carried on the small table and lied down on the sofa. She wasn't tired, but she still felt a need to rest.
If I'm going to start a new life, then I better leave the life in hospital… As soon as possible…
It was really crowded and noisy. A lot of people were talking at the same time, making the atmosphere rather friendly. They were mostly teenagers and slightly younger kids, all in one circled room. There was a fireplace made of stone in one corner, a big table and a lot of squashy armchairs everywhere.
"Snape took me 10 points for reading the ingredients out loud!" somebody yelled sounding annoyed, "Can you believe it?"
"He's a lunatic, mate" answered somebody else, "but he's got the power."
"Man, I wish I could punch him in his slimy face!"
"Can't wait till tomorrow," a girl excitedly announced, "We'll beat the hell out of Slytherin, for sure!"
"But, firstly I have to finish this homework," a fourth voice complained "and I still have two roles of parchment to do!"
"It was so interesting today at Transfiguration. We learned how to turn different parts of bodies into something else. You should have seen Neville with a thumb instead of his nose!", one boy sincerely laughed, "That was hilarious!"
"Hey!" somebody protested, "it was an accident! It could've happened to you too!"
Among all of these people, two figures started to become sharper and sharper, like in a slow motion. The crowd was still talking but their words weren't understandable any more. The faces of the two figures were still blurred, but there was something very obvious – one of them had messy black hair and the other one had red hair like fire. They were both trying to say something. The red-haired opened his mouth, but no words came out. He tried to call her… He tried to call her by her real name…
"He…"
Helen woke up with a start. She was having that dream again…. The dream she loved so much… The dream with a lot of agreeable noise and so many familiar words she wouldn't know what they meant as soon as she'd wake up… The dream with so many friendly looking faces…. The dream that would make her feel safe and comfortable…
Every time Helen would wake up after a dream like this, she wouldn't be able to remember anything.
But this time, there was something else besides the usual pleasant feeling. She seemed to remember one thing. Helen could swear there were two faces that belonged to some people she once knew so well... And one of them was even going to say her name...
A ridiculous, yet possible thought streamed through her unawake mind.
Maybe that dream has something to do with life I can't remember. Maybe I could even discover more about myself while dreaming... Darn… If only I could remember every little detail...
But that wasn't something she could exert influence on.