Dreams Sister Novels & Stories

And, it seems I would believe now that she might be from the blood of witches. "Missy, what are you doing here?" Sister Rizza went to her. "You should be sleeping. Hurry up and go back in your room." "I cannot sleep," Missy said, wiping her eyes. "I had a dream...and it felt real." Micah went to her, trying to calm her. "What's your dream all about? Is it about Sister Klay?" Missy shook her head. "No. It's a weird dream...and I really couldn't understand it. But it's not about Sister Klay. Is she not home yet?"

I hated myself for not being there but I am dangerous. Something has always been off and now these nightmares are hitting me all at once but none of it seems familiar. I remember our father being hard on us but not beating us like that. I didn't have any scars so does it mean it is only a dream? I stepped out of the shower and dried myself before I put a pair of clean shorts and shirt on. I sat on the edge of my bed and placed my head in my hands. "Come on Xander, get your shit together." I mumbled to myself. I checked the time to see it was the early morning hours, no calls or texts from anyone not that I minded but for once I'd like to see Ambrosias name come across my phone. The pain in m

“I don’t know Eve, if I can’t dream I can’t leave. Every day I wake up and that’s what pushes me through the day, makes me work and survive. How can I give up on the thing that makes me want to live for?” Putting it like that made me realize that I in fact had a dream. My sister. She was my dream. She was the reason I didn’t want to die, the reason I put up a fight, the reason I woke up with hope. She was my dream and if she was my goal there was no way in hell I would allow life to rip her from me. “I changed my mind. Dreams come true,” I suddenly said and they were facing me. “They must. I can’t let them go and neither should you.”

She could see her reading on a huge table with voluminous books in front of her, her eyes sliding over the pages of the books as she tried to memorize each of the words, from her nose drops of crimson blood would drop on the pages of the book and as soon as they did a crack would rent the air and her sister would cry out. “G-Garius…” it was a name her sister whispered in fear in her dreams. Whoever this Garius was he was hurting her sister and she’ll make him pay for it when she got her powers. The rest of the dream always passed in a flash. There was war, there was a child, there was a young boy with blue eyes whose name she always forgot as soon as she woke up. There were a lot of other th

Your dream can also be used as a gateway for very powerful dreamers who wants to enter this realm. ………………………………………. Let’s get back to my sister’s husband. I went in search of him to have a hearty discussion, at least he should know a thing or two that I don’t know, maybe he might even know of a way to go back and forth to the dream world. I saw him seating on a chair all alone, I wasn’t sure what he was doing, that ignorance almost cost me everything. I went ahead and called his name but I didn’t get any reply so I went further, that was when I discovered he was saying something in a weird language, a language I later discovered that it was the dream language.

Outside, two little kids strolled by him, waving at him with cheering smiles, they seemed to had seen him before even though he didn't recognize them but he waved back at them anyway and they passed. He walked all the way back to his apartment, his roomie had left the house earlier so there was no one in the apartment when he arrived, he thought of calling his mom... Yes he'd do that just to confirm the truth. Someone picked up the call and he awaited the voice just to realize it was his sister. •"Why calling Mom's phone brother?"• She asked on the phone and Joachim scratched his brows. •"I just wanted to confirm if what you told me earlier was the truth, to know if you're pranking me or not

Her hands, visible at the edges of the sheet, were curled into fists. She'd fought. She'd tried to live. And someone had held her under until she stopped. "That's her," Alexa said. Her voice didn't shake. That surprised her. "That's my sister." She reached out and touched Alice's hair. Still soft. Still dark. Still Alice. But her fingers froze halfway through the second stroke.

I am Sister Mary, thirty-five years old, and until recently I had never known the touch of another person, let alone a man. I had taken my vows as a virgin and believed I would remain one forever. But something had been stirring inside me for months. The dreams started innocently enough—soft kisses, hands on my breasts—but they quickly grew wicked. I began waking in the middle of the night soaked in sweat, my habit clinging to my skin, and between my legs… I was shamefully wet.