old souls

Nancy has always had terrible dreams ever since she was a young girl and has never thought anything of them, until her parents start sending her to a psychiatrist who is persistant with the idea of giving her meds and forcing her to recal every one of her nightmares...but her best friends have other ideas and keep saying how weird it would be if it turned out that they were memories from a previous life that she is remembering, but as the saying goes "many a true word spoken in jest"

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1. The dream

(Prologue)

“NO, STOP!” I managed to gargle out a sentence through the horrible lump growing in my throat. Never in my life would I have thought I would cry this much and sound so pathetic. As I stood rooted to the cold ground beneath me I felt helpless and knew that I looked like a small child asking for it’s toy back in the eyes of the monster before me.

“you don’t understand” it said in a calm melodious tone , “you took everything I had and left me with nothing to spare, you gave me nothing in return and expected me to still love you, well I think not.”

I stood there dazed and wondering how this came to be, I felt like I knew him on a personal level but also knew that I had never met him in my life nor had I ever met the person he held captive in his arms. She had been standing there for a while now wailing and thrashing about and I had only just noticed.

She had deep red hair and piercing green eyes, she was wearing purple converse sneakers a black top and shredded jeans which I thought may not have been bought that way.

Wherever I looked I would always come back to those eyes, they seemed vaguely familiar but the thing that really got me was the sneakers when I saw them my mind drifted off to a conversation about them, something about sharing them as we both adored any shade of purple and the shop that they came from only had one pair of size 7’s.

 

I smiled to myself as I remember the situation getting a bit heated over who would wear them first, I tore away from that memory as I noticed the creature start to change his hold on the girl as he pulled something out of the back of his trousers…

A gun he was now holding a gun at the girl in his arms and shouting at me all the reasons he was doing this, but the main reason he kept coming back to was that he wanted to see me hurting and vulnerable as I had apparently left him.

Who was this raging lunatic and what had I done to deserve such a severe punishment?

 

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