Dream #2:

The second dream was a jumble of disconnected images and sounds, random sensations with no particular rhyme or reason to them: the sting of a needle piercing the flesh of her neck; her little brother, William, playing by the riverbank, sparring with an imaginary opponent with a twig for a sword and a broken-off board for a shield; her mother screaming her name—her name, her name! it was her name, she had to remember that, she couldn't forget again—and sudden silence; a roaring fire that each of her friends, one by one, dove headfirst into. There was no sense to most of it, it was nothing but a torrent of thoughts, feelings, and memories, blended into one—but behind that random stream, there was one thing that was consistent: her regret.

She, too, dove into the flame—her body melted away like ice. And then she was nothing, her existence one with those flames, blazing through everything that existed until nothing was left to burn, and then emptiness.