Novel & Cerita Dream Mother Dying

His hand touched mine as I realized I was pushing a knife into his chest. "Bloody fucking Cromwell!" My mother's voice echoed. I looked towards her voice as it occurred to me. Maybe I was in Jossie's head. Maybe I was the one dreaming the whole time. Did Jossie actually kill my father? Was it me? What is this frustrating dream? I found myself sinking into darkness. This was usually when I woke up.

Her eyes met mine for a single, heart-stopping moment, a thousand unspoken words passing between us. And then, with a final, sickening crack, her body went limp, her eyes staring sightlessly at the ceiling. Blood everywhere. Mommy is dead. Mommy died. It was always the same, the details seared into my memory with a vividness that time could not fade. I closed my eyes and wiped away my tears. No matter how much I try to recall that dream, I can't recall the face of that man who killed Mom. But I don't need to remember anymore, I'm pretty sure who that person was.

It was haunting my thoughts and bleeding into the waking world so vividly it made me uneasy. In my dream, I saw my mother groaning in her bed. The scent of death permeated the air and filled my nose so much that I was practically choking on it. She was calling out for my father, her voice strained and pitiful. The agony of it was chilling. If it weren’t for her voice, I would have thought she was already dead. She appeared so weak, so feeble. Her skin was practically translucent, and her eyes, once vibrant, had lost their beauty.

And time was running out. That night I jolted awake, heart hammering against my ribs like it was trying to claw its way out. My room was bathed in moonlight, pale and silver, streaming through the curtains like a silent witness to the dream that had just ripped me from sleep. Kavian. His face still lingered behind my eyelids, haunting and vivid. In the dream, he was just as I remembered—tall, brooding but with those mismatched eyes burning into mine: one a piercing blue, the other a vivid green, like the forest after rain. However it wasn’t his eyes that left me trembling. It was that he died in my dreams and the way he died. My father held him down while Alpha Damian drove a blade into his

Certain. I swallowed hard. “No,” I whispered. He paused for a brief moment. “I need an explanation,” he said. “And I need it now.” There was something different in his voice. Not just control. Something colder. Something sharper. Like disappointment mixed with concern. “My nightmares,” I said. “I do it when I sleep.” “Why?” he asked. I hesitated for a bit. “My mother,” I said finally. “She died in a hospital. I was there. I keep dreaming about it.”

“What are you talking about? Mom had been my biggest supporter. Playing the piano is my dream, along with hers.” Arthur’s voice turned husky. “Your mother loved the piano too much, keeping a strict routine of practicing eight hours a day. She could even take up the whole day, just perfecting her performance just before a recital. I had talked to her about taking it easy, but she always said that music was her life.” He looked up, and for the first time ever, I saw the pain in his eyes. “The doctor attributed her condition to chronic exhaustion, but she pushed herself to complete the final tour anyway. I was there as she faded day by day, and I couldn’t do anything about it.”

Maybe she can help me find a solution or tell me how to appease the Moon Goddess. My dreams are brutal and show me the deaths of my loved ones. Every new death I am forced to watch. I see Maverick die again. Unable to look away this time. Then I see Madeline die in battle. A rogue tears out her throat. Again I’m paralysed watching, unable to move or make a sound.

She rummaged through my clothing, looking for something in particular. "Oh yeah? What was it about?" "It was terrible," I reiterated, remembering all the new faces I had encountered in this dream. Chad, Ashley, Sandino, Carly. James. Damon. "Well, don't hold out. Tell me." "I had a dream that you and dad... were dead." She stopped, turning to face me. Her face was serious. "It felt so real. It was the worst nightmare I've ever had." She smiled, as she came and sat at the end of the bed, eyes staring over at me.

"And I am telling you one more time that you need to reconsider. The pack is falling apart and she is the reason why." "The pack is falling apart because people are cowards and they would rather run than fight." My mother sat down across from me and her expression was serious in a way that made me uncomfortable. "I have been having dreams." "What kind of dreams?" "Prophetic dreams. The same one every night for the past week." I did not like where this was going but I let her continue. "In the dream I see Soraya standing in the main hall and she is covered in blood. There are bodies everywhere and the whole place is destroyed, when I look closer I see you lying on the ground and she is standi

She ogled at me angrily as tears threatened to dropped down her soft cheek. "Lov–" She hanged up her hand towards me and rushed back to her room. ~~~~ How are you viewing "nightmares" How is this going to end? 😶😶😶😶 ©Lharry's pen