Just A Dream ch. 1

This was the third time I dreamt of him. This couldn't be a coincidence anymore. The same guy mysteriously haunting me in my dreams. A haunting I must say I enjoyed, even hoped for, longed for every night. He didn't come every night. He didn't come at my will. No, that would take away from the mystery. He was a dream with his own mind, to come when he pleased, stay for as long as he wanted, then leave when I woke up. He made waking up so dreadful.

But alas, I was forced to open my eyes by the bright sun outside and my mother's stern voice shouting, "Elana! Elana, come down for breakfast. The flies won’t wait to eat your food." The flies won’t wait to eat your food, she says. Oh, my mother can be so dreary sometimes. It's not easy getting out of bed, especially since what my heart is craving for is in my bed, where I fall asleep.

Since the first night I dreamt of him, he hasn't left my mind. Father says I've been distracted, and my sister is sure she knows why.

I go down to breakfast and find my mother swatting flies away from my food. "Finally you come down. I don't understand you. Some days you're the first one up, but other days- Elana! Are you even listening to me?" My mother's irritated voice brought me back to reality and away from the young man in my dreams.

"Yes, Mother, I hear you," I shot back more rudely than I intended.

My mother's face contorted to one that goes beyond irritation, "Perhaps it's time we get that soap back in your mouth. Don't speak to me with such a tone."

Sister was silently eating at the table enjoying the whole scene. She enjoyed every moment my mother was mad at me, because that meant she was free from Mother's wrath.

Luckily Father stepped in. "Lorenya, please be calm. Elana only seems to be distracted. You mustn't take a young lady's tone so literally in the mornings. We all know how you fare when you first awaken."

This did not do good to please my mother, but father's gentle hand on hers did alas calm her. "Have your breakfast," was all she said to me.

Of course, my sister wasn't going to let me slide that easily. "It would appear that of late Elana has been distracted quite frequently. Perhaps something is on her mind that is bothersome. Or perhaps someone is on her mind. It could be a boy. I say, she has taken a fondness to our neighbor."

I couldn't believe she had the nerve, "Timothy is my friend! Nothing more. He's been nothing more but that since he moved here."

"Timothy. How is the boy?" my father innocently inquired.

"He's doing fine Father. He's helping his father in carpentry," I answered.

"Very good. Very good. Every young man should find a trade to keep his hands and his mind entertained, or else... or else they will find other ways to entertain them." With that, he chuckled that deep laugh of his and continued with eating his meal.

"I don't care what you say, Sister. You may see him as nothing more, but I doubt it's the same on his part," my sister slyly said.

Her audacity to insinuate such things sent me off the ledge, "Helen, I can't believe that you would say such things. I don't want to discuss this any further. Timothy is my friend and nothing more!"

She strode by my father's side, "I think we'll be seeing a wedding soon enough. What say you Mother?"

"A wedding would do this family good. They are such happy events," she said into the sink of dishes.

She gloated, "Any day now my Robert will be asking my hand. If Timothy doesn't love you as you say, then, why then," she paused just to irk me some more, "then no one ever will. Think of it. There aren't many decent young men around here." She finished her breakfast, "I'm off to be with my Robert. Have a good day little Sister."

Oh the nerve of my sister. She really knows how to get me peeved. "Mother, I don't have much need for food anymore. I'm going to go see Timothy."

I heard her yell, "But Elana, the flies." The door shut behind me and I heard nothing else.

In truth, I didn't much wish to see Timothy. I wished to see the young man in my dreams. Honestly, I don't know what would persuade me to dream of the typical tall, dark, and handsome person, but that is the best way to describe him. I must add that that is not what caught my attention. No, but I will wait to describe that last. For now, I'll describe his other features that allured me. The features of his face are handsome. When he is older, he will no doubt be more handsome than any man in our town. He has a strong jaw, but soft gentle skin. His dark skin, so smooth, but I have yet to touch it. He stands a head taller than me so that I'm left looking up into the most beautiful feature he possesses.

This is where I come to what made me fall in love with him. His eyes, the most beautiful eyes I have ever known. They are perfectly set apart, and against his dark skin, the grey and blacked rimmed pair are illuminated to fulfill their mysterious potential. The first time I looked upon those mysterious beautiful eyes, I got lost, lost in my own dream. I loved every moment of being lost. I never wanted to find my way out. It's silly to say that it only happened the first time our eyes met, because whenever I see him again, I'm in the most lovely wilderness all over again.

The fantasies of a young girl, my father would say if he ever heard me speak like this.

I came upon Timothy's yard. If he knew my dreams and thoughts, he surely would say the same too. But I have no one else to talk of this. My best friend, Lida, had already been betrothed and spends all her time with a fine young man who has only half her heart. My sister, our friendship died out long ago. That's why I count Timothy as the only one I can confide in. We keep no secrets from each other and bask in each other's comfort.

I saw him now, preparing for his morning errands no doubt. Perhaps if I weren't already in love with someone I might find Timothy charming. He stands tall and confident at times, but at others… He is rather boyish.

All who see me say I’m growing into a lovely young woman. Young women aren’t meant to fall in love with boys. We’re meant to fall in love with young men. So says everyone I know. I quite agree with them. Looking at Timothy now, I compare him to the one in my dreams. Timothy is pale, not as well built, he is for the most part scrawny, and his eyes are dull, the same as everyone else’s.

“What are you staring at Elana?” he asked as he approached me.

“You. Who else?”

He smirked, “Are my dashing good looks finally attracting you?”

Besides his physical features, I just love his sense of humor. “Not yet, Timothy. Perhaps in a year I might fall in love with you. Until then, you have to man up a bit.”

“Man up? I’m insulted. After all that I do, you still say I am not a man?” He fell into the depths of melodrama, pretending to be so taken aback as to fall to the ground.

“You are not a man. You are a boy,” I said sternly.

“Ah, but one day I will prove you wrong. I am a man. You just have yet to see it. All of the ladies in town are noticing.” He held out his hand so I could help him up.

I took his hand and said, “We both know that the rest of the ladies in this town are dimwits compared to me.”

He was standing, still holding onto my hand when he said, “I beg to differ. I know of at least one young lady who surpasses all in beauty and intellect.”

My scowl pushed him cowardly away. “Who?”

“A particular young lady that turned seventeen of late.”

“Who?” he was just as good as my sister at peeving me.

I took my hand out of his so that I could push him back to the ground, but before I could he cried out, “You of course.” He held up his hands in defense.

His answered shocked me so much that it sent a blush to my cheeks. “Oh.”

He felt safe from my wrath, “Is that crimson I see on your face?”

“No,” I turned away too embarrassed to let him think I accepted one of his compliments.

“Ah well, you don’t blush quite as beautifully as Esmeralda does.” He knew right to bring up his hands again to shield him from my smack to his arm.

“You’ve had a crush on her ever since you were little. When will you realize that she’s far from your reach?” I retorted.

In an entranced voice he said, “Never. She will always be the one I’ll long for and wait for. It’s more than a crush. It is love!”

I laughed, “If it were love, then why have you never had the courage to talk to her?”

“I have the courage. It’s just that whenever I approach her, my knees give in and I end up stumbling everywhere I step.”

“That is called cowardice,” I mocked.

“Just wait and then you will be witness to the greatest love that this town, no- this country, the world has ever known!” He stood triumphantly, as if he had won a great battle.

My blow to his stomach proved that he was no hero and still had much to accomplish. “As I said before, you are only a boy. I will gladly await the day that you become a man, but until then, work on tightening your core. A female’s punch shouldn’t hurt so much.”

“Only when the female is a seventeen year old who spends too much time climbing trees.” He sat down in defeat clenching his stomach.

“Enough of this. I came here to tell you something. But we mustn’t stay here. No one else is to know. Come,” I ordered.

“We’re going to climb aren’t we?”

“You know me too well.” I helped him up and we went off to a desolate area that only the two of us knew about it. It was in this same place that ten years prior we made a promise to one another. If we both grew old without marrying, we would marry each other in this very spot. Of course, I couldn’t possibly imagine marrying Timothy now. I do not love him.

“So we’re here. Why don’t we just stay on the ground? I don’t understand why you find it so necessary to go up a tree to talk,” he complained.

I scowled at him, “You lack a sense of adventure that limits your ability to do anything. I’ve already explained that anyone can stumble upon this place and find us. Thus, our secret hideout will be known to everyone. We’ll never have privacy ever again. If they stumble upon this place while we are up there, they will never know the importance of this place and continue on without any significance.”

“Your logic astounds me.” He looked up the tree with dread.

I took off my shoes and tucked them away in my dress while Timothy looked the other way as to not see where I put them. I then began my climb up and goaded my good friend along. “I don’t understand how I am two years your junior yet I am more physically capable than you are. Do you not think that means something?”

He struggled with his climb, “Yes, it means that you should be a man.”

“I take offense to that. I quite like being a girl. Life is more fun from my view.” I looked down to see his sweaty face. “I hope you’re not looking up my dress.”

“Why? Would I see anything interesting?”

“Timothy!”

“I’m only joking, Elana. You know I am a thoroughbred gentleman. On my mother’s honor, I am not looking up your dress. It may come as quite a shock, but I am currently having trouble keeping my eyes from the ground or open all together.”

He always knew how to make me laugh without even trying to. We continued our climb and finally came to a small clearing. My hand brushed against the bark to feel the smoothness of many years of play. Our carvings filled every branch so that anyone who would see it might think cavemen dwelt here. I hugged one of the larger branches and was happy with reminiscence.

This large tree has been our friend since Timothy first moved here ten years ago. My sister and I were told to befriend our new neighbor. Helen was nicer then. The three of us played together often and quickly found it hard to leave each other’s company. One day, I was wondering in the forest and got lost. I came upon this large tree and decided that if I climbed it, I might be able to find my way home. When I came to this clearing, I found that I could not go any higher or else I might fall. I could only see trees. When I tried to climb back down, I slipped and couldn’t get my footing back. I screamed for help but I was so far from home that no one was around to hear me. My sister was home sick and my parents were tending to her, so only Timothy noticed that I was missing.

He came into the woods looking for me and eventually travelled far enough to hear my screams. He ran to my rescue, but being but nine years of age, could do very little. He climbed the tree too, not thinking with logic, but with instinct. He came nearer to me and my foot kicked his shoulder. He almost fell, but something kept him holding on. Here I might add that Timothy has always been afraid of high places. I’m not quite sure whether it was out of bravery, anger, or fright, but he took hold of my foot and pushed me up. I helped him onto the clearing and this has been our special place ever since. That same day we made the promise of marriage and also vowed to keep our friendship for all time.

It would seem that we should have had trouble coming down, but alas, we came down with ease. Since then, our friendship has grown as strong as a well tied rope, able to resist any pressure or pulling.

“You do always get sentimental coming here. It is the only time I see you as a girl,” my good friend remarked.

I let go of the tree. “Don’t get used to my female sentiments. They always come and go quickly. Come, have a seat. I’ve something to tell you.”

He sat giddily, “Is it gossip you have? I do enjoy a bit in the morning after a good breakfast.”

“No, you silly boy,” I shook my head disregarding his remark, “It’s about my dream.”

I knew his expression too well. “Oh no. This isn’t that girlish fantasy of yours again, is it?” he asked in mocking.

“This is the third time he came to me. It’s more than a fantasy. The same man keeps coming to me in dreams and am I supposed to disregard it?” I couldn’t just push this dream of mine aside.

“Yes you are. There’s no logic behind it. It’s a dream. Have you seen this man in real life?” he asked.

I was hesitant to reply, “No. I haven’t yet.”

He looked at me curiously, “Yet? What makes you think that you will ever see him?”

My boldness outshone my embarrassment of believing in a dream, “I just know it. He hasn’t just found his way into my mind. He’s found his way into my heart. He haunts me, Timothy, haunts me. At first, I tried to not think of a silly dream, but now… It’s so hard not to. He trails around my head throughout the day but is only clear to me at night. He’s more than a dream because he has a mind all on his own. I don’t choose when he comes or doesn’t. But I can’t stand the nights he doesn’t appear.”

Timothy sat silent for a moment. Then finally said, “Do you hear yourself? Your words are that of a mad woman.”

I pleaded with him, “I know my words sound mad, Timothy, but you are the only one I can confide in. Please believe me. Please just listen to what I have to say.”

His expression softened, “Even as a child, I was never able to ignore those sad eyes of yours. Fine. What was this one about?”

I took a deep breath, ready to tell my tale, “The moonlight lit the forest, as in the other dreams. I heard a knocking on my window and was compelled to come outside, but by no voice, simply a knowing that he was out there. Once outside, I soon discovered it was frightfully cold. I called out to him, but got no reply. I heard shuffling in the bushes among the forest. I saw a shadow shift, which frightened me. I was now doubting whether he was there at all. My mind was playing tricks on me even in my dream.

“But then, there he was. It was his eyes I noticed first, naturally. Those grey, mysterious beautiful things that send me into the comforts of desolation… He stepped out from his hiding spot behind a tree and said to me, ‘I’m so glad to see you here.’ His voice alone made me feel more wanted than any girl ever could be. He came closer and saw me shivering. ‘Are you cold?’ he asked. He took the clothes from his back and, once wrapped around my shoulders, transformed them into a blanket. He’s always so careful as not to touch me. I’m not quite sure what I would feel. If I would feel anything at all.

“I was then shocked to see him standing before me with only his lower half covered. He told me not to be alarmed that he meant no harm or disrespect. I must say that I blushed at the sight of him. I’ve never seen a half-naked man before. He was stunning in the moonlight. Dark, smooth skin glowing warmly. I held out my hand to touch his bare chest, but he walked away from me and bade me follow him into the forest to a place of warm hearth. The forest around me transformed into a luxurious mansion. I sat by the fire. He was now fully clothed once more. The sight of him was attractive. I was sure he heard my heart beating faster for when he came closer to me he said, ‘I’m not going to hurt you, my lady.’ He bowed out of courtesy. He made sure I was comfortable then conversed with me some more. For all that was in me, I could not ask him any questions at all regarding anything. It was as if it was his will to not let me ask questions because he wouldn’t be able to lie to me. Instead, we talked of literature and nature, and of humanity in general. He is quite intelligent. In my dream I fell asleep by his side wearing a lovely red gown. I awoke in the dull clothes I fell asleep in and the sun was out vanquishing any traces of the moonlit night I spent with him.”

I let my friend ingest all that I told him. He contemplated what it could mean and finally said, “Why don’t we go back to all that has happened with this dream love of yours. The first night, in your dream you happen to gaze out your window and he is passing by. Your eyes meet and you fall in love with his- what color were they again?”

“Grey!” I knew he remembered, but it was still irritating that he would act as if he didn’t. My dream lover’s eyes are the most important aspect about him.

“Yes, that’s right. Grey eyes lured you in. The mysteriousness of the grey eyes against the dark skin is what makes you wanting more. Is that right?”

“Yes.”

“In this first dream, you see each other, stare into one another’s eyes for hours and you know he loves you and thinks you’re beautiful.”

He appalls me sometimes, “It wasn’t hours, Timothy. And yes, I do know he loves me and thinks those things. Eyes tell a lot.”

“That sums up the first dream, the first encounter with señor mystery. Now onto the second dream. You’re gazing out of your window again, waiting for him to come. He finally shows up and you rush outside so that you can talk to him this time. You’re standing in front of him and are lost for words. The place around you two transforms and you’re both in the middle of the forest alone. Alone meaning just the two of you. You finally hear his voice and fall in love with that aspect of him, too. He says something like…”

“He said, ‘Tis a pleasure to have finally met you,’” I add. I’ll never forget those first words. They gave so much depth to my thinking. I spent hours contemplating that one sentence.

Timothy continues, “Yes, those oh so very significant words. He bows and the dream ends. And in this last one, you actually spend a whole night conversing together. And you are now in love with his intellect.”

“Explain this all to me, Timothy.” I hoped he would give me some kind of an answer.

“It is quite simple, Elana.”

“Yes.”

“Either you are in love with someone who is real and this is simply a portrayal of him, or you want to be in love. You made up this dream lover of yours to fulfill a desire of your heart. He contains all the qualities you wish to find in a suitor.” He was contented with his answer, sure that he was right.

I couldn’t accept it, “No, Timothy, that is not it. If that were true, I would be dreaming about him every night. I would have him tell me his name and ask him all the questions I want. You do not understand that he has a power over me. He doesn’t control me, but I do not control him either.”

“And you don’t think it is possible that you have actually fallen in love with someone real and are dreaming about him?”

I ponder this thinking of all the gentlemen I know. “It cannot be possible. I love no one except he who haunts my dreams.”

“Logically, there is no other answer I can give. If you haven’t met him outside of your dream, then he isn’t real.”

I pursed my lips together and tried so hard to keep my hand from slapping him. “You are my friend. You are supposed to believe me. If you cannot, then we have nothing else to discuss.” I climbed down the tree with tears welled at my eyes.

Timothy of course climbs down much slower, so it was easy to elude him. I ran off not quite sure where I was going. It didn’t matter. I walked about town hoping to clear my head. Why couldn’t Timothy just believe that I simply did not make this dream up?

At times like these I would have gone to Lida instantly. She would have definitely believed me, but of late, she has been too busy being courted by her betrothed. Even if she found the time, she has given up on love all together. She is tired of listening to romantic tales, because she can never have this. I pity her often. She is such a beautiful lady that deserves better than what is offered to her. If only she had the courage to refuse and seek out the one who would take her heart by full.