Bright streaks shoot across the midnight sky, their glittering trails emblazing the sleek blackness that enshrouds the city. Fire falls from the paths of light, raining down in a deceptively warm golden glow. In the heart of the city, the once brilliant castle has fallen to ruin. When the last block of its mighty gate falls in a torrent of thunder, I know that it is the end.

__________________

I wake with a start, my eyes snapping open as if being pulled out of a trance. I sit up abruptly and swing my legs over the side of the bed, carefully making my way to the bathroom in an effort to not wake my parents. I don’t want to explain to them the lack of sleep that has been plaguing me for the past few weeks. It happened again; the dream of the destruction of a city, the end of a world. It always ends the same, no matter how badly I want it to change.

I push the thought from my mind as I run a hairbrush through my auburn locks. When I pull my hair away from my face, I fail to see any semblance of the beauty I wish I had. I examine my reflection in the mirror. Wide, dark rimmed eyes stare back at me, the hazel irises only contributing to the image of the person I see there. The girl in the mirror looks like a child. She says nothing. She has a sad look in her eyes; they linger with longing and helplessness. We stare at each other for a little while longer before I finally say to her “You are me. I am you”. She furrows her brow, puzzled, but I pull away from the mirror and head into my bedroom before she has the chance to tell me what I already know she will say; you could be so much more.
___________________
The air between my mother and me in the car seems thick. I focus on the road, turning at the appropriate times, following the same route that I have taken to school for over a year now. She tries to talk to me sometimes, but I hardly ever respond. She chalks it up to me not wanting to be distracted, and I let her. I wonder if maybe I should try to engage her, but then I always worry that she will just be disappointed by anything that I say. When I was little, I remember her coddling me and never letting me venture further than arms length. For so long, I yearned to somehow move away from her, to earn my own space, to be free.

Years ago that finally happened, but I never felt the successes, or happiness I expected to feel. Instead, I face an odd sort of solitude, one that is mutually comforting and lonely. I used to see my mother with her arms wide, her words inviting, but I was filled with fear to return to her. Maybe if I did, I’d feel just as smothered as before, or maybe she wouldn’t want me because I changed. When I look at her, I see her beautiful curls resting on her shoulders. I wonder how she always gets them to be so pristine, but I can’t ask her. I can’t bring myself to ask her. Opening up to her emotionally, after all these years of closing myself off, seems impossible. Sometimes I imagine my life as a play, and strangely it makes me feel better. We follow the script and we say our lines, but it never amounts to more than that. In the end we are just actors playing the role of mother and daughter.

___________________
I make my way down the crowded hallway to my first class, pushing past people who are idly chatting with one another. When I finally reach the English room, I keep my eyes focused on the floor as I sit down in the back row. I want to keep attention away from myself. I pull out a book from my backpack and open it to the last page I earmarked.

“Hey there, Olivia right? Did you do the reading for last night?” A perky voice calls, pulling me from the paragraph I was immersed in. I don’t have to see her face to know who it is, but I look up at her anyway. Clara West, a voice in the back of my mind whispers. I immediately question why she is talking to me. She’s the kind of girl that everyone loves, but isn’t mean or narcissistic about it. She seems nice, but besides the few words we’ve exchanged over the course of the year, she would never want to be friends with someone like me. Distance is something I wish to maintain, but when it comes to her some part of me wants to get closer. She seems so open, so non judemental, like maybe she would be a nice friend. I try to form a response to her question, reeling over whether or not I should tell her the truth. If we were to ever have a friendship, I would hate for it to be based on me helping her cheat on a reading quiz. I notice her staring at me, obviously expecting an answer, so I finally reply with a terse “No.”

“Oh” She says, her eyes a widening a little. She pulls a golden ringlet between her forefinger and thumb and twists it idly. Her eyes fall from my face to the floor as she adds, “I mean, you just seemed like the kind that would.”

I don’t know whether to be insulted by this or not, so I don’t say anything. I merely furrow my brow and focus my eyes back upon my book. My reading is interrupted again as the bell rings, immediately prompting our teacher to begin a class discussion. I guess there is no quiz today anyway.

“Now can anyone tell me why exactly the main character would want to run away?”

I know the answer; I mean really, anyone who did the reading could probably figure out why. I don’t raise my hand though. I get nervous under the scrutiny of my peers, so I let the silence go on.

“How about you Clara? What do you think the answer is?” This catches me by surprise. He doesn’t call on students very often. Clara seems a little shocked as well, but manages to reply anyway.

“Well I think that though she’s surrounded by all these people, she’s actually really lonely. No one tries to reach out to her because she places herself away from them because she thinks she’s different. To be honest, I think that she’s just afraid of what might happen if she talks to them. I think she runs away because she fears what others think of her, even if they might want to be her friend.”
I am shocked by the time she is done. Maybe she did actually read the book. I wonder then why she would talk to me if she didn’t just want a summary. I close my eyes and try to come up with an answer, but none seem to satisfy the odd feeling inside of me.


___________________
It occurs to me as I pass through the center of town that there is a significant amount of people here, more than usual. When I ask one of the street vendors what the special occasion is, he gives me a somewhat startled look.

“Well, it’s the fall equinox festival of course!”

“Oh so that’s what this is. I’m sorry; I’m not from around here.”

“Well you picked a splendid time to visit!” I merely nod in agreement as I walk toward the castle in hopes of escaping the fray. After wandering for a short while, I finally manage to come to the front gates of the castle, though they are barred and guarded on both sides. Unusual.

“Excuse me, sir, why can’t I enter the castle?”

The burly man gives me a once over before answering, “The castle is closed to all common folk in preparation for the feast.”

I decide not to question him further, but instead I lift my chin to gaze up at the walled structure. I remember the first time I had this dream,. Make these into separate sentences. I was drawn here and I toured its massive corridors until I finally reached the top. When I got there however, it was ablaze, and the city around me crumbling. I try to think back to when I first realized it was all a dream. My third time here? My fourth? I knew the castle, I recognized the people, but it was the medieval atmosphere, as if the city were plucked from a time long since passed, that truly shattered any illusion I had that this place was reality. Sometimes, however, I wish I didn’t know. I wish I didn’t know what will happen, all the destruction that is yet to come.

I should find Clara. The idea of seeing her pushes me back into the crowd, to walk slightly faster, more determined than before. Clara has been a fixture in my dream since, well since I can remember and I usually try to find her in order to put off the inevitable. I rationalized that speaking to her here would have no consequence; she was mere a figure of my imagination so nothing I could say would push her away or make me seem weird. Nothing matters here.

Well, it’s not exactly that nothing matters; it’s just that it didn’t matter, not at first. But then I started talking to her more each night and each time I kept thinking, this should matter, this should count for something. But it hasn’t, because every night I come and she meets me for the first time. She never remembers me because she dies in this world. No one remembers me. Not a single—

I’m jolted from my thoughts as someone runs into me. I take two steps back in order to space myself from the child I hit.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you there!” I exclaim. The girl turns her head up to me, pushing back the auburn strands that covered her hazel eyes. She looks oddly familiar. “Are you okay?”
“Mhm. I’m sorry I ran into you! I was just lookin for my mama.”
“I can help you find her if you want!” She nods and holds out her hand. I take it and lead her forward through the crowd. “Where did you last see her?”
She points in the opposite direction of the castle, toward opening in the outer walls that surround the city. “There!”
“Were you planning on leaving?”
“Mhm, but I didn’t wanna go.” She shakes her head, pulling me faster.
“Why not?”
“Because I wanted to see the fireworks. But now, I just wanna go back home.”
“It’s okay; I promise we’ll find her.” I try to reassure the girl. “How about you tell me your name, and what she looks like.”
The girl looks up at me, pausing a moment before continuing on, “My name’s Olivia and my momma’s is Helen. She’s a little taller than you, with brown curly hair and big, eyes, kinda like mine!”
This stops me dead in my tracks. Of course she was familiar to me, she is me. I see that face every morning, but not nearly so young. Her mother must be my mother. “What are you doing here?” I wonder aloud.
The girl, Olivia, me, pulls on my hand, urging me to keep moving. “That’s a kinda weird question. I dunno, mama said she wanted to see the festival. We aren’t from around here.”
“Then why are you leaving?”
“Hmm,” She chews on her bottom lip, momentarily lost in thought. “She said that something bad was gonna happen tonight, so we should leave.” Before I have the time to reply, she cuts me off by reminding me that we need to hurry up. When we get to the outer gate I ask a watchman there if he’d seen her mother. When he tells me that he hasn’t, a sinking feeling settles in my stomach. The girl’s eyes are wide and before I have the chance to stop her, she runs to the closest person and asks them the same question. She repeats this for the next few minutes, asking everyone in sight, her words becoming more rapid and anxious as she does so. All their answers are the same: No.
“It’s okay Olivia, I know she’ll come back here! She’s probably doing the same thing we’re doing now, okay?” I pull her close to me and kneel down so that I’m level with her. Her face is red and warm, tears threatening to pool over the rims of her eyes. She shakes her head, the gesture letting one of them spill down her cheek.

“No it’s not okay! What if momma doesn’t come back in time? She said something bad’s gonna happen! What if she doesn’t come back in time to leave?” Her words pull the rest of the tears down her face. She rubs her eyes with her hands in an effort to stop them, but it doesn’t help. She devolves into a fit of sobs and it’s just painful watching her, me, cry like this. I wrap my arms around her, in an effort of comfort.
“Sssh, it’s okay. I promise you I will make sure that nothing bad happens. She will be fine, and you both will be able to leave here tonight okay? I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”
She pulls back a little so that she can look at me. “R-really? You promise?”
“I promise.”
“You-you know, you’re really nice. I bet you’re super strong aren’t you? Since you’re going to stop the bad thing from happening right?”
“I-I don’t think I’m strong, no. I haven’t been able to stop the bad thing before…”
“But you’ll be able to stop it tonight! I know it!” She’s stopped crying now, which is a good sign, but I can’t seem to be happy about it. I give her a sad smile, about to tell her how wrong she is when suddenly a voice interrupts us.
“Oh, Olivia, baby, is that you?”
I instinctively turn around because that’s my mother’s voice. It takes me a moment to realize that she’s not talking to me. “Oh, you must be her mother. I found her in the square, she told me she was looking for you.”
My mother’s eyes are focused on her, but they flit up to me when she speaks. “Thank you so much! Olivia, you cannot go running off like that! Mommy was very worried about you!”
The girl nods her head and hugs my mother. The scene is beautiful, yet somehow tragic. I wonder now why exactly I’ve always been afraid of opening up to her. I want to be that younger Olivia right now, hugging her. She accepted my mother’s open arms, when I turned them away. How this girl is is different from me? “You are me. I am you,” I whisper.
The girl tears her eyes away from her mother and looks at me. She wiggles out of the embrace and pulls my hand. “You will be able to save me, I know it! You have the strength inside of you. You can overcome your fear; you don’t have to be alone.” Her words are simple, yet they take my breath away. She understands me, because she is me, yet I can never be like her again. I have changed, I have grown up, but perhaps I can learn from what she is telling me. She sees me as a powerful person, capable of saving this world, and maybe it’s true. As she walks away, hand in hand with our mother, I see her growing taller. Her hair curls beautifully and deepens a few shades. She is thin, but not lanky, and her hips sway with confidence as she walks. I realize now that she is not only the girl I used to be, but the girl I could become.
___________________

My eyes snap open and I try to sit up. My face is covered in a sheen of sweat and when I try to speak, my throat is dry. I force myself to get up and go to the bathroom. I look in the mirror, at the gaunt, wide eyed girl. My reflection parallels how terrible I feel. As I brush my hair and get ready, I think back on the failure that I awoke from. She told me I could do it, she said that I had it inside me to save the city. But I didn’t, I was powerless. If I can’t even save myself, how could I be expected to save an entire world now
Today will certainly be a horrible, horrible day.
___________________

As I gather my books from my locker, I hope that Clara doesn’t show up to first period English. To see her now would be like watching a ghost. I failed her, I let her die. Part of me is ashamed that the only thing close to a friend is a girl from my dreams who I’ve hardly spoken to in real life. Another part of me is angry, because I can’t even talk to her. I’m just powerless.

“Hey, Olivia! Sorry to be asking you this like, five minutes before class starts, but could I possibly borrow your book when we get in there? I left my copy at home!”

The shock of Clara talking to me right now threatens to drown out her words, but I somehow managed to hear them .“Yes.” I choke out, my mind focusing more on why she is here. People don’t tend to talk to me and I’m usually fine with that, but when it comes to Clara I care. She seems like the person that wouldn’t judge me for stupid dreams about the end of a world.

“So I can borrow your book?” She looks hopeful.

“Yeah, uhm, here it is.” After rummaging through my locker I hand the copy to her.

“Oh thank you so much! Hey, uh, you aren’t looking so good.”

“What?”

“You look kind of sick…”

I feel a little frustration arise, but I try to keep it out of my voice as I tell her, “It’s okay. I’m fine.”

I take a step towards the center of the hallway in the effort to get past, but she easily blocks my path. “Hey, I have Advil if you need some.”

“I don’t” I reply, trying to move again, but with no luck to get away.

“You can tell me if there’s something wrong. I mean I have bad days all the time and it totally helps when I talk about what’s upsetting me—“

“I’m not upset!” I exclaim, just a little louder than I intended. “Look, I know you’re trying to help me, but I don’t want to stand here being scrutinized by you.”

“I’m not scrutinizing you! I’m just trying to be a friend! Look, you’re always alone and I just want to be there for you! I hardly see you talking to anyone else, but—“

“What, you want to be my friend out of pity?” I can’t stop the anger rising in my voice and I know that I’m not mad at her, I’m angry at myself because I can’t save a stupid dream world and because I’m ruining my chance at becoming her friend.

“Yes, Olivia. You are alone a lot and that’s actually a big reason why I want to be your friend. You’re smart, I know that, but past that I hardly know anything about you. I don’t know your favorite television show, or your favorite color. It doesn’t make sense, why I want to be your friend; I don’t have a solid reason. I just… I just want to okay” On her last word, she’s turns away and heads down the hall to our classroom. I follow in silence, thinking of all the things I should say now to convince her that I want to be her friend to, but I don’t because I’m scared of what she’s going to say. I can’t face her here in reality like I can in my dreams. So much for having strength and courage inside of me.


_____________________________________________________

I sit at the dinner table, pushing my food back and forth on my plate. It’s late, nine already, and we usually eat dinner earlier, but mom had to stay at her office till nine. The car ride back with my father was uneventful, I find him just as distanced as my mother, though I’m starting to realize now that it’s because I push them away, like with Clara. When he finally rises; its 9:06 and I don’t want to follow him. Once he has left the room, my mother leans over the table and places her hand on mine, lowering my fork down on the plate.

“Now Olivia, you don’t have to talk about it if you want to, but you don’t seem well. Are you sick?” Her large hazel eyes hold concern and her curls flow around her face. She looks beautiful.

“How do you get your hair to do that?”

She looks somewhat confused as she answers “To do what?”

“To curl, and stay that way. It always looks pretty.”

“Well, I roll it up at night in curlers. I don’t sleep very well, but if you think they look so pretty I guess it’s worth it.” She laughs and her ringlets bounce.

“I don’t sleep very well either.”

Her smile dims and her face grows a bit more serious. “Why not?”

For a moment I hesitate, but I’m tired of holding this in, I want to think I want to return to the ways things once were. “I keep having the same dream every night. I’m in a beautiful, happy city, but every night, every single night, it’s destroyed.” I avoid her gaze by resting my eyes on my hands which have gravitated toward my lap. I want to cry, but I don’t. It would be stupid. To cry now would be to give up all the strength I’m supposed to have.

My mother guides me to the couch, holding me close. I have nothing more to say, I am trying just to focus on her touch, trying to ignore the heat that is starting to prickle my face. “Olivia” she says gently, pulling my gaze back to her. “Olivia, dear, you don’t have to hold anything in. You can tell me your problems.”
My breathing has gotten heavier as I try to bottle my emotions up, but her words have cut too deep. They are accepting and they make me feel secure. “Really? I can?”

“Of course, you don’t have to face these things on your own.” The same thing I told myself in the dream, but now I realize what they really mean. That’s why Clara’s in my dreams. I must earn her friendship by saving the world, not alone, but with her. I am there for her so that she doesn’t have to face the destruction on her own. We don’t have to be alone.

I let the first few beads of water trail down my cheeks before I open my mouth. I whisper to my mother everything I’ve ever wanted to tell her and more. I tell her about my dreams and Clara and how much I love her hair. “I should have never kept it inside me Mom; it’s only made everything worse.”

She simply smiles and says words that somewhere deep down within myself, I know I’ve always wanted her to say, “You are strong Olivia. No matter how trivial this all might seem, it is important to you and that’s what matters. Don’t ever think I won’t listen to you, because I always will. From now until I die, I will always be here. You were never, alone Olivia,” She pulls me back into a tight embrace, wrapping her body completely around mine, enveloping me in her warmth. “I love you,” She whispers, and for some reason, I feel like everything is going to be okay. “Now how about we roll your hair up in those curlers okay?”

All I can do is nod, wiping the last of my tears away.

___________________

The festival is still going on, making my chances of finding Clara even more difficult than usual. I’ve been trying to map out a plan since I got here. The sun is fading fast and I know it will set soon, so I must find Clara before then. Then, we must go to the castle, to the very top so I can stop the destruction. I don’t know what draws me there, but it just seems right.

After deciding that looking by myself isn’t working I start quickly interrogating the various merchants and people around me. One girl finally points me down the alley to a small bakery. When I get there, I take a moment to peer up at the sky. I lock my eyes on the sun and whisper softly a plea for it to move backwards, to give me just enough daylight to find her. Oddly, it begins to shift, pulling slightly so that it is situated just higher than it was before. I just hope it stays that way.

As I pad into the shop, I notice the shelves lined with various cups of jam and marmalade. There is a woman standing at the counter, settled in front of what appears to be an ancient typewriter. She is jotting notes down on a separate piece of pulp paper, a quill in her hand creating flowing lines of cursive.

“Excuse me,” I start reluctantly. She halts when I address her. “I’m sorry to bother you, but have you seen a girl with curly golden hair that goes to her shoulders?”

“Oh, you must mean Clara.”

I try to suppress my smile as much as possible, “Yes, Clara! Do you know where she is?”

“Yes, she’s in the back helping out with the baking. She loves to decorate the cookies.”
“Do you mind if I talk to her now? It’s urgent.”

“Oh, yes of course you can! She’s just through those curtains. Why don’t you both head into town. It should be getting late soon and I would hate for you two to miss the fireworks show!”

When I part the curtains and see Clara, I call her name with a sigh of relief.

She looks abruptly up at me, flitting her eyes up and down before asking “I’m sorry, uhm, who are you?”

I try not to show my disappointment. “Oh, no, I’m sorry! My name’s Olivia. We met a few months ago, when I was visiting here last. It’s fine if you don’t remember me. I wasn’t really expecting you to.”

She looks a little lost for words, but after a few seconds replies “I’m really sorry, but I don’t recall our meeting. Did I tell you to stop by here when you came back?”

“Oh, no, I asked a street merchant where I could find you, but it really doesn’t matter.”

“Well I think it should, it’s awfully rude that I don’t remember you isn’t it?”

“Truly it’s fine! But if you want, perhaps we could catch up while we walk into town?”

“I don’t know….Mrs. Jasper needs some help around here and—“

“Oh, she told me that if you wanted, we could head into town now. She doesn’t want us to miss the firework.”

A bright smile surfaces on her face as she pulls the apron off of her skirt. “Well, in that case then, let’s go. I would hate for us to miss them! The fireworks are simply gorgeous…Olivia was it??”

I can’t help but mimicking her smile as I nod “Yes”.

We leave the shop soon after, first talking about fireworks and what else happens at the festival, then we move on to other surface level topics. Though I’ve heard all her answers before, I pretend I don’t. I like listening to her go on and on. It isn’t until we get to the center square that she decides to turn the conversation away from herself.

“So Olivia, why are you here? Where’s your family? What city are you from?”

I pause before replying, “I’ll answer if you come with me.”

She looks puzzled for a moment, before questioning me further. “Where?”

“To the castle.”

“We can’t go in there because of the festival!” She exclaims with a small shake of her head. “There are guards everywhere, we would be caught.”

“Oh nonsense! They’re just stationed outside; I doubt there will be very many looking for intruders. We’ll be able to make it to the top, I know it!”

“How?”

“I’ve been inside before, and I remember the layout very well.”

“Why do you want to go to the top?”Her eyebrows furrow a tad and her eyes reflect her suspicion.

“To see the fireworks, of course! I know you’ll have fun. I promise you I’ll answer all your questions as we make the climb. It will be totally worth it!”

She mulls over what I say, pulling her bottom lip in between her teeth while running her eyes across the immense castle before finally settling on me. I notice that the sun has remained in the same spot it was when I had entered the bakery. I smile and silently wish for it to move once more. “Fine,” she huffs, a rebellious gleam now lighting her focus. “Let’s hurry so we don’t miss the show!”

When we first entered the castle, she asked me various questions in hushed tones and I replied to her with partial lies. At first, she listened intently to my answers, and then rushed to ask new questions, but after some time she began pausing and thinking. Now we descended into silence, both of us content in just listening to the sound of our breaths and the crowd below as we climb the spiral stairs.

We manage to make it to the top just as the sun has set. The sky is a pure black, save for the little specks of white stars. “There’s no moon.” Clara tilts her head, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “They said there would be a full moon.” She sits down in the center of the open terrace that overlooks the entire city. I sit next to her, waiting for the start of the golden rain, but instead, a bright blue light breaks across the sky followed by what sounds like thunder. I see Clara jolt when the noise hits us, then she lets out a gleeful laugh.

Her smile is the only thing I can really make out in the darkness, but every now and then her body is alighted by a certain color. “Hey, Olivia, this might sound really weird, but I feel like I’ve met you before this.” She says in-between one of the booms.
“Well, yes, I mean we did meet once a few months ago…”

She pauses slightly before going on, “No I mean…It’s strange. I have no recollection of actually meeting you, yet all your answers are familiar to me. Even when I met you earlier, I faintly recognized you…” I halt about halfway through her confession. Impossible. She can’t remember me. “I know you must think I’m crazy—“

“I don’t.” I stop here. It’s now, in between the flashes of light that I decide to tell her the truth, to let everything out. I turn to her and start by explaining how I know her, how I know the world will end. Her smile falters slightly and she listens intently, though after some time I fear she has tuned me out. When I start to ask her if she understands me, the darkness seems to lift, rushing away as fast as it came. This is the beginning of the end.

“Is this it? The fire storm you told me about?” She asks the moment she notices the streaks in the sky. I nod then stand so that I too can take in the full image. “Shouldn’t we go down?

“We must stay here, Clara. If we leave I’m afraid we won’t be able to stop it.”

She’s about to say something, but before she has a chance, the giant balls of light in the sky start falling, leaving a fire emblazed trail behind. “Will you help me?”I ask, trying to keep my voice as calm as possible. My hand is out toward her, hoping that she will take it. She looks at me for a moment, her fear and confusion apparent in her hesitation, but she finally places her palm against mine. I thank her with a slight smile before I once again turn my gaze upward.

I run through all my emotions in my head, internally vocalizing how much I need for this to end. When that’s not enough I open my mouth, and hushed pleas come pouring out of me. Through her anxiety, Clara starts to follow me, saying all the things she wishes not to happen. I then imagine in my mind a very clear night sky, the golden shimmers being erased and replaced by the cloak of night. I see the crumbling walls of the city build themselves up again, pulling stone by stone into place until it is whole. When I open my eyes, I see that the golden glow has begun to dissipate, the fire balls less numerous, but still apparent. I then reach my free hand up to the sky, and imagine an invisible power surging out of it, blanketing the city from the embers. I imagine the houses and this castle under a black caul, shielding it from the dangerous light. My pleas have become louder and more rushed, I can even hear Clara’s voice over the crackle of small fire’s below.

The fire in the sky begins to melt like gold, slowly assimilating into the sky. The destruction that is to come never happens. I whip my head to Clara and I see that she is already looking at me. In the dimming light I can barely make out her face, but I see the smile on it accompanied by her glimmering eyes.

“You saved the city.” She whispers.

“I’ve never succeeded before.”

“You saved me.”

“This is all I’ve ever wanted.” I say to her, and it’s true. I’ve need this, this feeling of confidence, of strength. I’ve always looked in the mirror and seen someone else, refusing to accept who I am, but now, I think I am finally able to understand the things that make me powerful. I don’t want to be alone anymore, I want to be friends with Clara , I want to have meaningful conversations with my mother. Now all those things are tangible. “To be honest, I was afraid nothing would change Clara. I was afraid that I would save this city and then the next day would continue on as if nothing has happened.” We are now fully facing each other in the darkness and though I can’t even see her, I don’t care. All that matters is that she is here with me now, alive.
She simply replies. “You aren’t afraid now, are you?”

I shake my head, though I know she can’t see me. “No. Everything has changed. I’ve changed, this world has changed. You won’t forget me anymore.” I know she doesn’t completely understand, but I don’t care because from now on, I’ll have as much time as I need to explain. And even if I don’t see this Dream Clara ever again it doesn’t matter, because I know I will be able to talk to Real Clara.

“Let’s be friends Olivia.” She whispers, pulling me into a hug.

I tentatively wrap my arms around her before gently murmuring, “Okay.”

__________________________________________________

I walk with newfound confidence into my English classroom and purposefully sit right down next to Clara. She seems a bit shocked, but says nothing. I pull my lips into a smile before apologizing to her. “Sorry about yesterday, I wasn’t feeling very well, though I know that that isn’t an excuse. To be honest I’ve wanted to be friends with you for awhile.”

Her eyes somehow widen even more and there is a great pause before she replies. “Really?”

“Yes, really. Do you maybe want to see a movie with me this weekend?”

She cracks a small smile, “Only if you lend me some of your books!”

I nod in agreement, knowing that my reply will be the start of this new friendship that I’ve wanted for so long. Somehow it seems odd, how real everything feels, but it doesn’t matter. Clara is real and I’m talking to her, nothing matters besides that. “Deal.”