Chapter Four: The Picture of Him

She woke up feeling mesmerized, a sensation that was far from ordinary. It wasn’t just a dream; it was a memory she couldn’t forget. The strange kiss he had given her before she left her dream was vivid, haunting, and genuine.

She could still see his face clearly in her mind, questioning her, as he moved closer. She felt his hand gently touch her face. Her breath caught when she saw his face inching toward her, and then, as if pulled by some magnetic force, his lips brushed the tip of her nose. A second later, his lips descended on hers, soft and intense, like a lion devouring its prey.

He paused, his warm breath against her ear. “This is the thing I wanted to give you before you leave. Remember me, and I will live in your heart forever.”

Cara could still feel the lingering effect of that kiss, even though she had awoken from the dream. She tried to convince herself it had been just that—only a dream—but somehow, it felt like something far more real, something that couldn’t be erased. Despite the strangest of dreams, it seemed so vivid in her memory.

Shaking herself from the trance, she moved back to the couch where she had rested after coming home from school. Her thoughts continued to spiral. The dream was absurd. How could a dream feel so… tangible?

It wasn’t a past memory; it was something her mind had created. And yet, this man, this dream lover, felt too real. She was no stranger to studying human behavior, so she knew that this wasn’t normal. This obsession over a man she’d only seen in her dreams was unhealthy. Maybe it was a side effect of some childhood trauma she’d suppressed. It didn’t make sense. She had never encountered him before—at least, not in her waking life.

But that face. How could she ignore it? Could dreams sometimes bring forward memories from our past? Was it possible that she had known this man before, in some forgotten moment? She couldn’t be sure. But the only way to resolve this was to find him.

Determined, she took out the sketch she’d gotten from the artist. “This is perfect,” she muttered, examining it closely. The man in the drawing was exactly the same as the one she’d seen in her dream. She had to know who he was.

She took a picture of the sketch and sent it to Jean with the caption, “I already have a picture of him. Can you help me find him?”

A minute later, Jean called her.

“Wait, hold on. Are you serious? Are you telling me that there's a man out there who looks exactly like this guy? He looks… perfect!” Jean’s voice was incredulous. “I can’t even believe you created this guy in your dream.”

Cara smirked, despite the anxiety gnawing at her. “Just because I’m amazing. The mind is a powerful thing, Jean. Sometimes it creates the most unexpected things.”

Jean was silent for a moment, considering. “I’m not sure if you’ve gone off the deep end yet, but… Okay, if you think this guy exists in the real world, I’ll help you find him. But Cara, you have to realize, this could be a bit more complicated than we think.”

Cara felt a sense of relief—though she wasn’t entirely sure why. Maybe it was because Jean, despite her hesitation, was willing to help her search.

“Thanks, Jean,” she said, as she hung up the phone.

At home, with the sketch in hand, she felt both excited and doubtful. Could this man really exist? His features were so perfect, his body so finely sculpted, he seemed like an ideal creation of her subconscious mind. Still, the memory of that kiss lingered, making her wonder if he had left an imprint on her for a reason. Could it be that she was meant to find him?

Suddenly, a familiar voice broke her reverie.

“Sweetheart, are you okay? Who is he? And by the way, you’ve got a mysterious letter again.”

Cara turned to see her mother, standing in the doorway with the letter in hand. Her heart skipped a beat as she remembered the strange letters she had received before.

“Huh? Oh, it’s just a sketch I got from a friend, Mom.” She hurriedly tried to explain, not wanting to go into more detail. Her mom had never been very curious about the strange things that seemed to happen in their house, so Cara figured it would be best to avoid her prying questions.

“Alright, if you say so,” her mom replied, seemingly unconcerned. “Your dad and I are flying to Thailand tomorrow. He’s got a business trip, and I’m meeting an old friend. Don’t forget to take care of yourself while we’re gone.”

Cara didn’t reply, simply offering her a smile. This was their usual routine—her parents gone, leaving her alone in the house. That solitude was something she had learned to live with, even if it had led to her mind creating strange dreams and characters.

“Okay, Mom. Take care,” she said, nodding in acknowledgment.

After her mother left, Cara sank onto her bed once more, her gaze fixed on the portrait. Jean was right—this man was perfection, like a god carved out of marble. But did he really exist in the world? Could it be that this dream wasn’t just a figment of her imagination?

She tried to shake it off, but the memory of his kiss was impossible to forget.

Just then, she noticed the letter her mother had handed her. She opened it, curious despite herself. Inside, there was a single rose petal, along with a simple greeting card. The card contained only a few lines of text, seemingly a quotation or an excerpt from a poem. It was beautifully written, though the meaning eluded her.

The only thing that stood out was the signature: Mr. Smith.

Cara’s heart skipped a beat. The same name. The same person who had sent her strange letters before. What was the connection? And why did this letter feel so eerily connected to the dream she had? Could it be that her dreams were leading her somewhere deeper?

She didn’t know what to make of it, but she knew one thing for sure—she couldn’t ignore it. The mystery was too compelling.