Scattered Dreams Novels & Stories

While I was busy handling various work tasks, I suddenly received a new email in my inbox, sent by Carl, Mike’s assistant. I paused for a moment, feeling a bit puzzled, and opened the email. The beginning read, "Madam, I don't know if you'll be able to see this email. Over the past days, I’ve tried every possible way to contact you, but all my efforts have been in vain. I was thinking, since you’ve canceled your identity, you must no longer be in the country." As I continued reading, my heart skipped a beat. "You don’t know, but Mr. Ashton has been nearly driven mad these days."

“With the way your life’s going right now, we’ll believe anything” She glared at her friends. She scoffed. “Very funny Dominica. But anyway, if you must know, I…been having these strange dreams lately” She whispered lowly, leaning her body forward on the table, her friends following suit as they also leaned forward, wanting to hear the big fat secret their friend had to share. “What kind of dream?” Rue listened closely. Scarlet gulped, debating whether She should tell them or not, She shook her head, She knew She was digging her own grave but still….”W-wet Dreams” She revealed and their mouths sealed, She watched as they share silent glances at each other before turning back to her.

Ebony ~Dreamland~ The past few nights have been chaotic for me. The forest in my dreams is wild with oddly colored leaves and crazed wildlife. As I run towards the lake, it feels like everything is trying to keep me away but I only push forward even as the chaos blurs my vision. It only stops when I make it to the lake... and tonight is no different. I take a deep breath and look around hugging myself. Skylar hasn't been clear either. I'd see him and yet he's like a ghost in a movie... completely transparent. His voice sounds so far away too but that's not what always catches my attention.

The dreams she had carefully articulated in the diary were now laid bare for those who loved her to witness, a testament to the depth of her spirit. "I want to travel the world," Larry read, his voice a tender echo in the room. The words carried a wistful yearning, a desire to explore the vast tapestry of cultures and stories that adorned the globe. The room seemed to exhale a collective sigh, as if mourning the adventures that would remain unfulfilled. Sandra's eyes, glistening with tears, met Larry's. "She had a heart full of dreams and a spirit full of adventure," she whispered. The sentiment hung in the air like a delicate tribute to a woman whose dreams had become an inseparable part of

The Forgotten Mate 1. The Masquerade Rejection. Dreams are elusive, fleeting moments of solace that transport us to a realm untouched by the hardships of reality. In my dreams, I find refuge. I am a child again, innocent and carefree, surrounded by the warmth of my family's love. I see their smiles, hear their laughter, and bask in the joy that once filled our humble home. But dreams, no matter how vivid, always fade away. And as I awaken, the cruel reality of my existence comes crashing down upon me like an unforgiving wave.

Andrea's dreams had been a jumble of fragmented images and emotions, but one theme persisted: the laboratory. She'd find herself strapped to a table, surrounded by cold, sterile equipment, with a scientist looming over her. The scientist's face was always obscured, but Andrea's fear was palpable. She'd try to scream, but her voice would be muffled, and she'd wake up with a start. The dreams recurred, each one a variation on the same theme. But as the days passed, Andrea began to notice something strange. The scientist's face, though still obscured, seemed...familiar. She couldn't quite place it, but the feeling grew stronger with each passing day.

The fragmented being trembled weakly. “Not in words.” A pause. “In absence.” That explained absolutely nothing. And somehow made the dreams worse. The shard of the eye floated near the ceiling lazily. Though Luke noticed it no longer wandered far from populated realities. As if even possibility itself dislikes being alone now. The shard spoke quietly: “The dreams are contact.” Nyra looked horrified. “You said the crack closed.” “It did.” The shard rotated slowly. “But awareness remains.” Luke rubbed his exhausted face. “So what exactly is it doing?”

Megan walked toward her desk trying to bide her time until she could figure out what to do, she knew that she was in her own head. “Have you been reading those horror books again?” Eric looked confused as he picked up an old leather-bound book with Latin scribbled across it. “You know it always messes with your dreams.” Megan stood up tall at the word “dreams.” Why would Eric have said that? She knew that they have never talked about her dreams and that was because he would go screaming into the night with what was in her head. “Really? You got to be fucking kidding me?” Megan cocked her hip out in frustration while she tapped her foot. “So, now you are changing forms now?”

" - - - - Saturday evening was so bored and quiet, having dinner with Joachim was worse. He paid less or no attention to her, his earphone blocking literally his hearing and his cell phone distracting his sight, that Mareili felt he wasn't even there at all. She had to rush her meal, leaving him and rushing to take her bath. After bathing, Mareili sat on the porch as she watched weak sun disappear into the horizon. The clouds rumbled, and for some reason Mareili thought the rain and the sun were fighting for dominance over the earth, this was what her mother made her believe whenever the rain threatened to fall and the Sun refused to vanish. When the sky turned grey, and the horizon released