I thrashed under the sheets. The ceiling felt like it was closing in on me. I couldn't sleep. I lay on my side, my heart pounding as if someone were banging on its walls were a closed door—trapped, desperate. Sweat beaded above my lips, forehead, and down my body. The sound of the clock ticking made me anxious. My left hand curled on my chest, hoping to calm my racing heart—it didn't work. My other hand was buried beneath my pillow.
I eased myself onto the edge of the bed, the soft mattress sinking slightly beneath my weight. My gaze drifted around the room, taking in the details—the faded paint on the walls, the scattered books on the nightstand, and the faint sunlight filtering through the sheer curtains.
The room reeked of abandonment. I could smell dust from the spots that were left untouched ever since Mom and Dad left. The air was thick, humid, and heavy. Small beads of dust floated in the sky, shining when beams of light from the streetlights shone on them.
After staring blankly for about 10 minutes, I finally got up to get some water, my mouth dry.
I dragged myself to the fridge, my legs shaky as though they were convinced I wasn't real. Everything felt so surreal.
I looked around, feeling weird. A whisper, yet somehow loud, cut through the air. Her voice a little hoarse, she whispered with fear and recognition, "Aezren.."
The glass slipped from my hand and shattered on the floor.
A loud sharp noise of the glass shattering
And then,
Silence.
My heart thudded painfully. I stood frozen, eyes wide, straining to hear more. That name was not mine. Not anything I recognized. The shattered glass filled the air, making my eyes burn.
She said it again.
Again.
Again.
I rushed to her side, dropped to my knees beside her bed. "Mom?" My voice cracked.
She didn't respond — just mumbled the name again, softer now. But it was etched into her features like muscle memory, like she wasn't calling someone she'd forgotten but someone she couldn't forget. It was as if this name was branded into her brain like hot iron on flesh.
I gripped her hand, cold and limp in mine. For a moment, I wanted to shake her, scream at her. Say my name. Just once. But she didn't. Just that name. Aezren. Something twisted in my gut — bitter, sharp. It wasn't just confusion. It wasn't just fear.
It was jealousy. Stupid, irrational, overwhelming jealousy.
Who the hell is Aezren? Why the hell is he the one she calls for? And why do I feel like I've heard that name before? I didn't get answers.
Just her voice, calling out to the dark. Again.
She kept calling out to that name, like a broken birthday candle playing the same song over and over again, till it makes you sick and want to throw it away. Gradually, my lids started getting swollen and heavy, as if there were heavy boulders on them forcing them to close. And then, they shut.
I was at this place, like a void, except, all white. I felt watched. My heart raced with unease. "Who..Who is it!?" I exclaimed as I turned around. I felt defenseless, the same way that I felt that day when I had a nightmare and Lucien woke me up.
Except, this time, there's no Lucien. There, I spotted a man — Tall, Blonde with broad shoulders and porcelain-like skin. I mistook him for Lucien for a second. I walked to him. "Lu-" I stopped myself. There was one key difference. This man had blood red eyes, and entirely different facial features. He walked in circles in inhumane speed. However, his face looked a little blurry and smudged.
Even though he didn't speak, I felt random words forming in my head. The fact that the word forming in my head were "Aezren" only infuriated me even more. I walked closer to take a look at his face. He looked ethereal, yet somehow eerie. He wore a black velvet doublet, paired with a red brooch. He looked like a high noble from the 17th or 18th Century.
***
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