:: prologue ::
15 October 2025
He was in my dream again last night.
I see that face every time I fall asleep. And even though I haven’t the faintest idea who he is, he seems
so…familiar. Like I’ve known him my whole life. He’s young, maybe mid to late teens, blonde hair, blue
eyes, rather tall. Quite the pretty boy if I do say so myself. And I am ashamed to say it, but, well…I’m
rather attracted to him.
Is it wrong to say that about someone who not only looks as if they are eight years your junior, but you’re
not even sure exists? That you’re attracted to them? It has to be – I’m sure of it.
But I digress. Every time I’ve dreamed about him, he’s asked for my help. Help with what, you ask? Well,
that’s just it. I don’t know. He won’t tell me what he needs my help with, and each and every time I’ve tried
to ask him he just…disappears, right into thin air. And I find myself in what looks like a cemetery or
churchyard. That, of course, is when I invariably wake up. Which of course is when I turn to this, my trusty
journal, and jot down what I can remember – normally when I am not at my most coherent. Though really,
is that any different from my life as it is now? Even my mother says I’ve been a little off the planet lately.
And this is coming from the woman who has her head in the clouds 95% of the time anyway!
I wish I knew what the hell it meant. I wish I knew what I’m supposed to help him with. And I wish I knew his name.