Novel & Cerita My Dreams Are All Dead And Buried

Akira had not finished his words, so Lee Umji only listened intently. "My body that woke up from a coma after one year was inhabited by Kim Hana. That is why she wrote a Daydream script about her life story. Then my body came back into a coma and after waking up for the second time, Kim Hana's soul forgot about herself and her own life," Lee Umji said, explaining position where at that time her soul was not in her body.

We are buried in broken dreams We are knee-deep without a plea I don't want to know what it's like to live without you Don't want to know the other side of a world without you I don't want to know I don't want to know I don't want to know I don't want to know I don't want to know I don't want to know I don't want to know I don't want to know We are buried in broken dreams We are knee-deep without a plea I don't want to know what it's like to live without you Don't want to know the other side of a world without you

Instead, I drifted away, gazing into the distance. I liked the cemetery's location. It overlooked a glittering lake—the same one where I used to stare at my reflection as a pup. Only Leo would think to bury me somewhere I would have loved. By the time they were too exhausted to continue fighting, they both lay on the ground, wounded, staring up at the moon. Leo bared his teeth at Ryan, panting heavily as if he wanted nothing more than to tear out his throat. "How dare you come to Tiana's grave?" he growled. "She just wanted to rest in peace, not be your possession even in death!"

And I had been foolish enough to feel guilty, desperate to cure his legs as if I owed him everything. The tears I shed now washed away the last fragments of attachment I had for him. This false marriage, carried on for five years, needed to end here. As I closed my eyes and finally let go, a cold mechanical voice rang through my mind. "Host, the system has detected a second mission failure. Do you wish to terminate it?"

But instead of grabbing the lifeline he'd just offered, I decided to come clean with him. I found myself breathing slower and steadier. My shoulders dropped slightly. My hands finally stilled in my lap. I looked at him again, and this time I felt something in me soften. I could not explain why, but his words made me feel safer. Safe enough that the words slipped out of me before I could stop them. “It is the dream,” I admitted. My voice was small, but it did not shake. “It has been happening more and more. It does not stop. I see myself in a coffin. Again and again. Like I am already dead, like I have no way out.”

Silence wrapped around us. Not oppressive. Sacred. Like entering a church. Or a memory. Elara walked to the crib first. Running her fingers gently along the railing. A tear slid down her face. Then another. And another. I moved beside her. Close enough to touch. Not close enough to interrupt. After a long while, she whispered: "We never buried her name." I frowned slightly. "What?" Her eyes remained fixed on the crib. "We buried a future." A pause. "We buried dreams."

The room was deathly silent except for the frantic beat of my heart in my ears. His low voice and the one from my dreams overlapped, weaving into a single key that unlocked my carefully built self-deception with a sharp click. He was Mr. Y—the man who sang off-key love songs to me at midnight, and the very same one who had chastised me relentlessly in the day. I stared at him. His handsome face was so close, and the usual coldness and distance were gone, replaced by a fragile, pleading vulnerability. The light in his eyes flickered like a candle tossed all night by a stormy wind.

She had escaped from the crypt. "He's not dead! He's not dead!" Daphne threw herself onto the coffin, pounding on the lid like a woman possessed, her voice so shredded it was barely human. "Stellan isn't dead! He's not dead! He's not dead! You can't bury him! He's really not dead!" The chapel erupted. Everyone stared at Daphne in shock, then at the coffin, then at each other.

His eyelids were twitching constantly, but even so, he remained completely motionless inside the coffin. I couldn't help but wonder if Mom and Dad, who were lying next to him and faking their deaths as well, would become so enraged that they would sit up. After all, they were hearing their worthless daughter slap their precious son. In the meantime, the onlookers, who were shocked by my reaction, quickly stepped in to hold me back. I took the opportunity to bury my face in Lucy Hall's, my neighbor's, shoulder. "Why did I have to be the one left alive, Lucy? Mom and Dad are gone, and Draco is dead, too. How did the Lancaster family—?"

I tried to recall if I had ever been to this place, but I was pretty sure I have not. A coffin, my coffin, was still above the ground, it seemed that I was going to be buried today. I found my friends, Tony, Anne, Tine, and Riley crying at the grass next to my coffin. My mom was crying on my dad's chest and Chase was rubbing her back. Everyone was wearing black. I could also see relatives and other friends at the back, but their faces were blank. I knew very well that I was dreaming because I could not see my body, but I could not shake off the feeling that I might have been dead as well, and my soul was overlooking my burial.