It All Starts With A Dream Novels & Stories

“I’m doing this for your good. I don’t want you chained to Damian’s shadow. I want you free. I want you to start again. Don’t throw away your dream.” My dream. The word lands like a splinter. He doesn’t see it this child isn’t a chain. It’s the only part of me that’s still alive, still mine. My shoulders stiffen as the first tear spills hot down my cheek. “This child is my dream,” I say, my voice steadying even as it shakes. “My flesh. My blood. I will not give it up.”

It was my first time crying in front of someone else. Through the rearview mirror, the cab driver looked at me in concern. "Are you alright, miss?" I sniffled, but my tears refused to stop flowing. "I'm fine. I'll be alright after a good cry." The driver passed me some tissues before attempting to console me, "I don't know what you've been through, miss, but I just want to tell you that life is always going to be filled with setbacks, disappointments, and even moments of absolute despair.

Dream's POV The first email came early in the morning, before the sun had even fully risen. I was halfway through my first cup of coffee when my laptop pinged with a new message, no subject, no sender name, just a blank header with an attachment icon blinking red. I should have ignored it. I should have deleted it like the dozens of spam mails that came in daily. But something about the way my name was written in the preview, “Dream” , plain and unadorned, caught my attention. No one addressed me like that except the people who knew me personally.

"All I'm asking is that she do a match to save our children!" I looked at them, their voices rising as though I wasn't even there, and spoke flatly. "So this is your love, huh, Wayne? How disgusting!" "No, it's not like that, Arden! I would never put you in danger. I only agreed to her plan as a stopgap—I have nothing to do with her anymore!"

"Serena" He called again wanting to be sure that this wasn't one of those dreams he woke up with screams and sweats all over his body seeing her not moving or answering his calls, seeing her with those puff eyes with tears in it he just wants to console her even if it's a dream he wouldn't want to see her in tears not now and never. He began to move wanting to stand up so he could reach out to Serena. "Fuck this hospital and it's equipment"

"Brother p-plea" "SHUT-UP ALLEN" he scream again "But bright it's my dream, it's our mother dream" I try to make him understand while crying, he need to understand my dream our mother dream. "WHO GAVE YOU PERMISSION TO SEE THE DREAMS I DON'T HAVE PERMISSION TO TOUCH YOU,IF I HAVE I DEFINITELY SLAP YOU,YOUR ONLY DREAM IS BECOME A WIFE AND LOVE YOUR HUSBAND"

“Sit up slowly.” I obeyed, though my hands still trembled. “I… I had a dream,” I whispered, my voice tight. “Someone… someone kept saying… ‘The time has come. The time has come.’ Over and over.” Mira’s expression softened, but her gaze was sharp. She sat beside me and placed a steady hand on my arm. “Tell me everything, Aria. Every detail.”“I’ve had the first dream for a long time,” I told Mira quietly. “It always starts the same way.”

S-“Baby, why didn’t you tell me about it” A-“To be frank, I totally forgot about it, I was just 16, a stupid teenager who had dreamt about prince charming, Disney land and all,” S-“I’m disappointed love, you didn’t tell me about your dream” A-kissing his cheek “I’m sorry like I said I forgot about it, it was just a stupid dream of mine” S-“I don’t care, whether it’s stupid or crazy, I want you to tell me about it, and I make sure it comes true, no matter what okay, fulling your dreams are my dreams, promise me”

"Ever since we were kids, you've been breathing down my neck, controlling every little thing I do. Who the hell do you think you are? "I let you have your way half the time, but can you just leave me alone already? I'm exhausted. Sometimes, I think the gossip was right. No wonder you were abandoned. Who could put up with a jinx like you?" A wave of intense nausea rolled through my empty stomach, a bitter lump forming in my throat. I couldn't throw up or swallow it. The ten-year-old Diana, the 17-year-old Diana... I had spent years trying to fuse all those cherished versions of her into the woman standing before me.

Kris laid in bed, eyes wide, staring at the ceiling. She never experienced that type of dream before. It felt so real. Reaching mindlessly to the nightstand, she grabbed her vape, taking a long drag and holding it in. She exhaled, letting her shoulders drop and her eyes close. She thought about the events as they played out in her dream. She was giving a tattoo. It was a beautiful design she made specifically for Elena. They kept locking eyes, making it too hard for her to concentrate.