Dreaming of Flowers

"What do you mean, what I'm doing? I'm not doing anything. You came to me first, I'm sorry If I misunderstood." I turn away, the burn of rejection in my throat. 

"I did not mean it like that." I still at his soft touch on my arm. "You… you are doing something that no one has been able to do for a very long time. It is more worrisome that you don't even know you are doing it… you could get stuck in a dream if you're not careful." 

"Stuck in a dream?" I turn back to him, my breath catching at the sight of him. He was only inches from me, already staring down into my eyes intensely. 

"I need to stop, before I tell you too much and get us both into trouble. But I will say this, you need to stop visiting me like this." My heart sinks. I was visiting him. How? "It's too dangerous. I should have left you alone while I still had the chance. This place I'm in… it has more secrets than I care to admit. And if anyone knew you were here, they would want to keep you for themselves and bend your mind to their will." 

"This place you're… in?" Was this… a real place? I was still holding onto the hope that I was just having really, really, vivid dreams. But those words… Was I visiting a real place? Was I talking to a real person right now? And he said I was… visiting… him. What did that mean? 

Suddenly, the guy's head snaps to the left, towards the trees. I follow his gaze, crinkling my brow at the change in the air. I could feel my hair standing up, and ears were prickling with the taunt of noise. 

Voices. 

I could see light coming through the forest, too. 

"They're coming for you, Delilah." I look up at him, furrowing my brow. 

He grabs my hand and starts dragging me across the field. "Who's they? Why are they coming for me? Why does it even matter? I'm dreaming right now, aren't I?" I would really like an answer on that last question, mystery man. 

"You… kind of are dreaming. It's not the same as last time. We were both asleep then." We duck under branches and step over rocks as we break through the tree line on the other side of the field, him pulling me by the wrist the entire time. Was he saying he wasn't asleep? Then how was I seeing him right now? And how was he seeing me? 

I look over my shoulder as I realize the voices are getting closer. 

"Little flower?" I stop suddenly at the sound of a voice, maybe thirty feet away, calling into the night. I felt almost hyper focused on it. Something in me longed to hear it again, longed to hear it read me to sleep and whisper sweet nothings into my ear.

I look up at the guy, my eyes wide. What was this feeling flowing through me? Why did I feel like I needed to see who that voice belonged to? 

"It's time to wake up." I gasp as I realize he's grabbing me by the back of my neck and pulling me closer to his face. There was a strange look in his eyes, and he definitely looked annoyed. I was so focused on the look on his face, I almost didn't realize what he was doing. Why he grabbed me.

Oh my god. 

Was he about to kiss me? 

This time when my eyes snap open, I'm not feeling so sad and lonely.

I'm confused as ever and a little irritated. Scratch that, a lot irritated. He knew going in for a kiss would scare the shit out of me and used it to wake me up.

I sit up, trying to process what I just "dreamt" about. 

Who were those people trying to find me? Why was that guy so scared of them? Scared might not have been the right word…

And who was that that called for me? I could remember the exact pitch of his voice calling out into the night. "Little flower…" I feel almost… regretful… that I didn't see his face. 

I shake my head, focusing on what really mattered. Were my dreams more than dreams? Was this a real place and a real person I was visiting and talking to? It was seeming more and more like that was the case. I felt insane even thinking that, but what was I supposed to think at this point?

I sat there in my bed for a few minutes collecting myself, my fan blowing freezing air on my flushed face, my dog still sleeping at my feet. I grab my charging phone off my bedside table and groan when I see the time. Just after six. My mom had left for work only a few minutes ago, and I myself had only been sleeping for a couple hours. My head ached and my eyes felt puffy with sleep, or lack thereof, I guess.

I tried closing my eyes, willing myself to return to my dream. I had more questions than I had ever had before. I begged my mind to let me return. After about thirty minutes of that, I was willing to take plain ole sleep if nothing else.

After a full hour of angrily tossing and turning, I give up. My head is too jumbled right now to rest. I sit up, rub the sleep from my eyes, and grab my laptop.

Might as well try and get some answers, I guess.