T H E D R E A M
It always starts the same. Iβm falling into thisβ¦ cold, dark abyss. But Iβm not worried. I feel strangely calm and safe. I always land on my feet, on this beautiful pink glass. I always know Iβm never in any danger because sheβs there. I can see her through the fog. But sheβs always so far away. Soβ¦ I run. I run to her. I can always hear her telling me to come to her. Andβ¦ I try.
And as I start, I can feel the fog growing deeper. I see the dark spot sheβs standing onβ¦ shrink, almost, like a dilating pupil. I can hear my footsteps plinking across the glass, echoing into the darkness. I call out to herβ¦ and she reaches for me. Thereβs a beautiful smile stretching across her face. Warm and invitingβ¦ the only warm thing in that cold, cold place.
Sometimes I almost make it. Other times I'm barely more than a few feet before the glass shatters beneath me and I start falling again. Iβm always scared then. Falling, watching her slip away again. She tells me to come find her. That sheβs proud. That she wants to see meβ¦ and just as she says that I always lose her.Β
Sometimes I can feel the brush of her fingertips as I reach for herβ¦ Sheβs right there. I can feel itβ¦ I know sheβs out there. So thatβs why Iβm here. Why I joined you guys. And if that journey takes me through the Tempest, to this βWinter Witchβ, then thatβs where Iβll go. Whatever it takes. Iβll find my mother. You donβt have to help me if you donβt want to butβ¦ justβ¦ donβt try to stop me, okay? This means so much to me. Itβsβ¦ all I have.
