Strings of Fate by Kit Bryan

Strings of Fate 

109- Real and repeating 

I dream about the little girl again. How did I forget about her? It’s not the same dream although it is definitely the same girl. Her white–blonde shoulder length hair which was so tidy last time is unkempt and looks like it could use a good wash and brush. Her eyes are still rimmed in red, but she’s not crying anymore. She’s…. Staring. Her eyes are glazed over and looking off in space with a vacant expression. It’s somehow even worse than the tears. It’s almost like she’s not in there anymore. Like a little broken doll in flannel pyjamas. Her body is limp, sitting on the floor with her legs out to the side and shoulders drooping. The only proper sign of emotion that I can identify are the tight fists at her sides, squeezed so tight that her knuckles have turned white. I want to step towards her, pick her up off the floor, hold her, anything to return some life to her face, but I can’t. In this dream, I don’t seem to have a body or any kind of form. It’s like I’m stuck watching through a screen. The girl suddenly moves, looking up as if someone was speaking to her, but I can still only see her and darkness. Horror crosses her face and I regret wishing the blank expression away because this is so much worse. She begins shaking her head no, backing up on her hands sliding on the floor. Invisible hands yank her to her feet. She starts crying again and a moment later whatever or whoever is yanking her pulls again and she vanishes. Everything goes dark, and I wake up. I bolt upright and I’m crying. It’s dark and my sudden movement causes Bellamy to stir beside me. 

“Ryann?” He asks, his voice croaky and groggy. I can’t answer him, I’m too busy crying. This is the second time I’ve dreamed of this girl. At least. I know I dreamt of her last night, I was going to tell Bellamy but I didn’t and somehow she just… faded. Bellamy realises I’m crying and immediately pulls himself up and flicks the lamp on. I cringe and blink against the bright. light. Even once my eyes have adjusted they’re still blurry from the tears. Bellamy picks me up and pulls me into his lap, cradling me and stroking my hair. 

“Hey, hey… shhhh. What’s wrong darling? What can I do?” Bellamy asks gently, a touch of anxiety in his tone, but he hides it well. I can only tell because everything he does has a touch of anxiety recently. I continue letting out huge sobs for a minute then I start trying to match my breathing to Bellamy’s. Taking slow, relaxed breaths. With my head against his chest I can feel his heart racing, although not as fast as mine is. It probably takes almost ten minutes for me to pull myself together well enough to speak. When I do answer, my voice is hoarse and my chest tight like it’s being crushed. Bellamy waits patiently for me to get ahold of myself. 

1/3 

109- Real and repeating 

“I had a dream, about a little girl.” I croak out. I tell Bellamy all the details of my dream. He rubs my back and holds me close as I explain. 

“That sounds horrible. I should have made sure you didn’t go to bed thinking and worrying about the missing girl. Of course you would have a nightmare.” He sighs. I sit back a little. 

“Are you seriously blaming yourself for my nightmares now? Don’t be ridiculous. Besides, it can’t be because of what we discussed. Because I’ve dreamed about the girl before. This is the second time. I dreamed about her last night, BEFORE any story hit the papers.” I explain. Bellamy goes quiet. 

“Are 

you sure?” I can tell he’s doing his best not to be dismissing, but his tone betrays doubt. 

“I’m positive. I don’t even know if it’s the same girl. But I’ve dreamed of her at least two times now.” I insist. Bellamy nods. 

“It’s okay, I believe you. Maybe it’s the opposite? Maybe the story about the missing girl hit you so hard because you had a dream about a little girl last night and if that’s the case, then of course you would dream about it again.” He reasons. Huh, I suppose that’s possible. 

“But that would be such a weird coincidence.” I mutter. Bellamy shrugs. 

“It’s still possible. Besides, how well do you remember the first dream? Isn’t it possible that your mind changed details to match the story better?” He adds. I nod slowly. Then shake my head. 

“Yes, maybe, I don’t know. I just can’t help feeling I’m supposed to do something. But I have no idea what. Even if the little girl in my dreams is real, what can I do? Or what if she 

represents som else? Or what if it’s just my mind being cruel and making me 

miserable?” I finish, hopelessly. Bellamy reaches and pushes some hair out my face, wiping away the tears that haven’t completely dried yet. 

“Regardless, there is absolutely nothing that we can do about it right now. It’s really late and you should try to sleep more.” He suggests. I shake my head hard. 

“No 

way, I couldn’t get to sleep if you paid me.” I insist. 

2/3 

109- Real and repeating 

“Try.” He demands. I shake my head again. 

“I can’t, and even if I do, all I can think about is the girl in my dreams. I’ll just have the same nightmare.” I sigh mournfully. Bellamy thinks for a moment then nods to himself, a decision made. 

“Lie back and listen then.” I tilt my head in curiosity but I comply. He leans over and tucks in the sides of the blanket around me, making sure I’m snug and comfortable. Next, he grabs the book he was reading earlier from the bedside table. He ignores the bookmark and flips back to the beginning. Then he starts to read, his voice calm and relaxing. It’s some mystery book. about a bank heist. I’m so tired I barely even pay attention, I just let the soothing sound of Bellamy’s voice lull me back to sleep. During the night I wake twice more. Both times I’m crying and I have the impression of fear, but I don’t remember what exactly I dreamed. It must be the girl, but no matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to remember anymore details. Each time, Bellamy wakes with me. We don’t talk, he just holds me close and soothes me to the best of his ability until I fall back to sleep. 

In the morning I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck. My eyes are red, sore and all gunky from crying. My lips are chapped, probably from biting at them and my chest aches. I also have a throbbing headache starting in my temples and running down the back of my neck. Add in the poor amount of sleep I actually got and it’s no surprise that I don’t want to be awake. But of course, this is one of the rare mornings when I wake early and can’t get back to sleep. Bellamy is still asleep and I decide to leave him. He probably slept almost as badly as me since he woke up every time that I did. I creep my way out of bed SUPER slowly doing my best not to jostle him. If my head didn’t hurt so much, I might do a little happy dance that I actually succeeded, but the thought of showing that much enthusiasm makes me want to hurl so yeah… no. I tip toe carefully over to the closet to find something to wear. I slide it open, cringing at the rumbling sound the wheels make then I stop and stare.