Raven woke with a start, drenched in sweat, the echoes of screams still in her eyes. It was the most vivid dream she had ever had. She could still feel the hot thrill of killing, the pain as a spear's blade passed through her flesh… and the intense love for an evil man who was not human.
The whirring sound of the rusty ceiling fan filled the night's silence. Then she laughed out loud. It had been a dream, and nothing more, so why dwell on it? Yet… She couldn't stop thinking… Her mind was pulled to that dream like a magnet.
Without bothering to switch on the lights, she climbed off the bed and swung open the bedroom curtains. Silvery moonlight streamed in, giving herself and the room a ghostly appearance. She sat in front of her dressing table, staring at the mirror.
Long black hair that was normally smooth and sleek was presently tousled and tangled from sleep. The cascades of black hair framed a pale heart-shaped face. Glittering green eyes glared back at her, already sharp and showing no trace of drowsiness. Green eyes, a strange colour on an oriental face. A typical Chinese would have dark brown.
Green eyes, just like Eva's. Eva had looked very much like her. Everything Raven had dreamt had been through Eva's eyes. It was like she had been Eva.
"It was a dream, just a dream!"
The words came out sharper than she had intended.
It was only a dream… But the tragic story refused to leave her mind. It was beautiful. That was the only word to describe it.
Inspiration struck her and she grabbed a pen and an empty exercise book.
The Shadow of a Dream Raven titled it, and began to write the tale of Eva's doomed love for Chase Young.
ChaseChaseChase… The wind seemed to whisper the name. In her mind's eye, Raven pictured him, just as he had appeared in the dream.
If she had looked up from her writing, she would have seen the pure-white butterfly flit out of her window.
Chase.
A thick mist fills the night's air. A ghostly figure is the only one to be seen on the dimly-lit street. The figure is dressed in archaic armour and had long black hair that whips around in the strong wind. He stares at the window in one of the houses across the street. A faint shadow can be seen, hunched over a table, furiously writing something. A butterfly, so pale it seemed to glow silver, lands in his gloved hands. It vanishes; melts away like sugar in water.
"She remembers now," he murmurs, and leaves.
In seconds, he is just a shadow of a dream.
This is the end of The Shadow of a Dream. I hope you enjoyed reading it. As promised, it's fast, whether the romance or action.
Please support the sequel Remember Me once I've got it posted. Thank you for reading The Shadow of a Dream.