My eyes were slowly opening, and I could feel a light breeze brushing my face. I opened my eyes and I was shocked by my surroundings. I was in the middle of an endless green field. I stood up, and I spun around to look at all directions. I was alone. I tried walking forward, but something tugged me back. I looked back and no one was there. I stood still. I didn’t want to move any more, then suddenly, large birds appeared and approached me. They were flying right above my head in a circle. I didn’t know what I should do now. Should I run?
Then the birds vanished, and the blue skies instantly turned dark gray. A figure from a far was walking towards me. I couldn’t move. My body was stuck. I waited, and the figure came closer but was blurry. Then suddenly, he came into focus. It was Sam. But he died a long time ago. How did he come back? Why a man that I barely knew, I was married to for two weeks, come back from the dead?
Sam looked at me with a concerned face. He finally said, “Sara. Don’t leave me.”
I stared back at him and I couldn’t reply. Why was he calling me Sara?
He then lifted his arm and came closer to my face. He touched my face and applied gentle strokes with his fingers and kissed my lips. He stopped suddenly, moved back, walked away and disappeared.
The dark gray skies turned black, and it felt like everything around me was black too, even the grass below my feet. I heard a noise coming from behind me, and I tried turning around. When I did, a large wooden paddle hit the right side of my face and I screamed. I touched my face and looked at my hand, it was covered with blood. I kept saying, “No. No.” I kneeled down and touched the ground. I kept saying, “No. Why me. Leave me alone.”
I couldn’t feel pain. I couldn’t feel anything. Then a large door appeared in front of me. It didn’t have any knobs or handles. It was plain, solid, and dark gray in colour. I heard a voice and someone said, “Sara. Leave.”
I didn’t know what to do, but the voice I heard sounded like an order, and I had to get up. When I tried to walk towards the door, someone kept tugging me back. I turned around, and a little girl, barely four years of age, was there. I recognized her from the photo papers in my room. She was the younger version of me.
She wore a white and pink dress. She had white tights, white shoes, her hair was long, and her arms were at her back. She had a happy expression and said, “Why are you leaving? Stay.”
I didn’t know what to do anymore, but I tried to open my mouth to say something, and a metal rod struck my head hard. I woke up and screamed.