Requiem For A Dream Novels & Stories

No matter what she pleaded after that—even when she wept, admitted she was wrong, swore she never wanted to let me go, and begged for a second chance—I didn't flinch for a second. Some wounds are simply too deep to ever be made right. The End

"Yes! I'm dreaming and I've been here for almost two days. I slept fine thinking I was going to wake up in my real life, but I am still dreaming. I find Tessa and Pearl here as handmaidens. strange. My father is a King, My mother is dead, and you... a Prince. It is very frustrating, I miss my Mom my friends, my life, and I don't know what that story of a stupid Diamond is supposed to mean to me!" She panted breathlessly, after pouring out the load in her heart. Dexter's mouth hung open in astonishment. "You are right, I won't understand." Ruby put her hands back on the rail and hung her shoulders in disappointment, at herself. Expecting someone in her dream would understand what it was like

the doctor said with surprise. “It feels like forever,” I moaned. “In the beginning, I found them exciting. Now, I just wish I could move further with them, or dream of something else. It’s like ‘Groundhog Day’ nightly.” The good doctor surprised me with, “Are you currently dating?” “Are you insinuating that I’m fantasizing about this hunk because I lack a boyfriend?” I asked, indignantly. “The mind is a complex thing. I’m simply looking for a direction in which to search for the reason behind your dreams,” she explained. “I don’t understand why you waited so long to mention them.”

She answered. “How come you don’t have a choice?” I asked her. “Mom got me into a scholarship there since she knew it’s my long-time dream to be in Paris.” She answered. “Where’s the Jaiden spirit?” Connor asked. “Think of it this way.” Connor said. “Remember the times you told us about how you dreamed of waking up there, finding your lover there, etc.” He added. “Take it as an opportunity.” “Connor’s right.” I agreed. “Who knows when you will achieve that dream.” I said. “Always remember that we’re here for you.”

LYRA* When the man from my dream returned, my soul leaped with joy. I could feel his touch as he kissed me and held my hand. His touch was the only thing that broke the barrier of nothingness, but still, I could not break free. I felt I would forever be trapped within the confines of my mind.

Sure enough, the look in his eyes flashed confusion. "A nightmare? You haven't had one of those in years." I chewed on my lower lip causing the worry to grow evident on his features even more. I exhaled heavily as I knew he was waiting for clarification. "Not necessarily a nightmare. It was a dream where you guys were there to save me. I always dreaded waking up afterwards though. Because everytime I woke up, I realized that it was just a dream..." I felt the stinging sensation in my eyes and quickly took another deep breath.

She roared, clasping her hands over her ears. Her body bucked the firmer the Last Four incanted. She'd been having dreams about him. The man who made her what she was. The one who robbed her of her childhood and sent her into a run. She needed to root out the dream and the location where it kept occurring. For all Denee knew, there was a mishap somewhere. The incantation heightened. The air whispered with dread, making the candles in the tomb flicker, rising into the air as the powers of

“And the world’s first silence between them.” Adrien took a step forward, fighting the tremor in his voice. “You can fight it, Liora. You’re stronger than both of them.” Her laugh was soft, brittle. “Strength isn’t what you think it is. Mother used hers to build a cage. Dominion used hers to burn it down. I just want to stop the song.” He frowned. “What song?” She looked upward. The moon glowed brighter, impossibly bright, pulsing in rhythm with her heartbeat. “The Dream. It’s still alive, inside you.”

I won’t find her until I die. I search her eyes, my hands trembling as I cup her face. My voice is hoarse, cracking. “ It’s a dream. ” It has to be. Because my Elita is not coming back. Not now. Not ever. Pain erupts in every part of me. It consumes me, drowns me, chokes me. And no one is there to help me out, no one to save me from it. But she is here, crying, sniffling, biting her lip.

Emery Quinn I dreamed of him. It wasn't romantic—not like the dreams that leave you flushed and disoriented, clinging to phantom sensations. It wasn't sexual—none of that desperate heat that crawls under your skin and stays there well into the morning. It was just his voice—low, cold, and sharp, an instrument of precision rather than passion. In the dream, he stood in shadow, face obscured, only his silhouette visible against a backdrop of endless glass windows. That voice repeated the same thing over and over again, each iteration more insistent than the last: Everything is a test. Everything is a test. Everything is a test.