I had never wanted the night to come so badly. As torturous and draining as my days could be, I was usually too caught up in my own head. I was usually too busy trying to please everyone around me, whether it was at work or while studying for one of my courses. While I knew that getting certifications would eventually provide me with better job prospects and a more secure future, it was hard to stay motivated.

Even then, the sentiment, the desperation I felt of wanting to go to bed couldn't compare.

In that moment, nothing was more important. I couldn't help but replay the events of the night over and over in my mind, like a personal torture that I absolutely believed I deserved. I just felt so guilty for leaving her there, even though I had no idea that was going to happen. The memory of her lying there alone haunted me throughout the day. It was as if her absence was a constant reminder of my failure to protect her.

What did I feel the need to protect her anyways?

She wasn't helpless and in a lot of times she had been the one that had given me courage to keep going. But the again this overwhelming obligation to watch over her couldn't leave me alone. Almost like, even awake, something was looming over the surface.

And I was the only one that could sense it.

Throughout the whole day, I caught myself holding my own hand, trying to feel the same warmth I did when it was hers, and failing. It was a futile attempt to recapture a moment that had already passed. I missed her more than words could express and I was tired of denying it. The silence around me was deafening, even when walking through the street, and I longed for the sound of her voice. The day seemed to drag on forever.

It was stupid and unhealthy, but I couldn't care less. I was convinced that the deep connection I felt was real, and her inability to come back, to awaken like I did, frightened me.

What if she was in trouble?

It felt more tangible than reality itself, like every piece of reality had turned upside down and dreams were the only things that mattered. Time went by painfully slow, until the point where I couldn't bear it anymore. So I made a stupid decision.

I was desperate.

I felt a little embarrassed as I entered my house with a bag from the pharmacy, but knew there was no other way. I had spent the morning and early afternoon scouring the internet for something that could help me sleep better, instead of paying attention to whatever I had to do in class.

It was foolish to rely on medication, I knew that all too well, but I felt like I had no other choice. I had to find a way to dream of her again.

I have to admit it, it shames me to admit that I wasn't even thinking about resting at that point. Just her. Only her.

As I put the bag down on the kitchen counter, I reminded myself that this was just a temporary solution. I would use it tonight and then try to find a more natural way to help me sleep, to get to her.

The bottle of NyQuil smiled at me from my side table, happy at the thought of being used by someone that swore to never use anything like that again. Its purple hue glistened under the artificial light of my bedroom, and I couldn't help but wonder if it was really the solution to this new disaster.

I knew it wasn't healthy, to be more focused in my dreams than in reality. I knew I was starting to go down the rabbit hole I had gone in the past, but this time I convinced myself that I knew better. I wasn't going to let reality go, just needed to reach her and make sure she was okay, just that.

But maybe that would help me calm down, dull my thoughts so I could fall asleep faster.

If only the stupid pop song that was stuck in my head would leave me alone. It had appeared all of a sudden in the middle of the day, and I didn't even remember hearing it before, yet it was there to torture me, to make me lose focus, probably.

All of this sounded like a twisted joke.

I had a real notebook, the same one that the one in my dreams endlessly tried to imitate. The notebook was a gift from my grandfather, who had kept it carefully for years. It had a leather cover, with a beautiful design embossed on it, and the pages were made of high-quality paper that felt smooth to the touch. I loved the sound of the pages turning, the way they rustled slightly, as if whispering secrets.

I opened the notebook and breathed in the scent of fresh paper. Then, I picked up my pen and began to write. I wrote the same sentence over and over, trying to capture the essence of the person I was thinking of. I focused on her face, trying to conjure up every detail, every feature. I wanted to describe her in such a way that anyone who read my words would feel as if they knew her too.

As I wrote, the words flowed from my pen onto the page, filling it with ink. I wrote about her smile, her eyes, the way she moved. I wrote about her personality, her likes and dislikes, her hopes and fears. I wrote until my hand ached and my fingers felt numb.

Finally, I put down my pen and closed the notebook. I had captured her essence on paper, frozen in time for all eternity. And even though she was not physically present, I felt as if she was with me, her spirit captured in the pages of my notebook.

"I will find Chiara in my dreams tonight."

It's common knowledge that it's possible to control what you dream about by using various techniques. One of them, my favorite, is to focus on your desired dream before you sleep. That was the one that helped me with lucid dreaming before. I had always done so when I needed to make important decisions, but before that day I had never tried to use it to dream about a specific person before.

Even during my teenage years, when confusion and hormones often ran rampant, no one had ever captivated my thoughts and emotions like Chiara. Not a girl, not a boy, not even when I was a confused teenager. Not a single person had made me lose focus the way she was. Still, I decided to try it out, hoping my subconscious mind would pitch in.

That redhead was driving me insane, but I was starting to like it.

So I took a gulp of the sleep aid and closed my eyes, struggling to quiet my racing thoughts and drift off to sleep. The relaxing music played softly in the background, but little by little it started mixing with the beats I still had stuck in my head. Gradually, my breaths became deeper and more even as I surrendered to the calming effects of my environment. And finally drifted off to sleep.

The next time I opened my eyes, I was on the bus. The bus was crowded, with people standing and holding onto the overhead bars. I looked around, and my smile widened as I recognized my surroundings. Everything was good, it had worked!

But no, something was wrong.

It only took a couple of glances around me to realize that she wasn't there.

Panic set in as I searched for her face in the crowd. Had I lost her forever?

It wasn't just her absence. No, there was something else, something that I couldn't quite put my finger on. As the bus pulled away from the curb, I noticed that the driver was missing her usual cap and seemed distracted, her gaze flickering between me and the road ahead. It wasn't until a few minutes into the ride that I realized what was wrong.

There were tiny glass shards scattered around one of the windows in the back, and a panel was missing, causing a draft to blow through the bus.

Was that the reason why Chiara was missing?

I couldn't decide if I was happy about it or not.

On one hand, she wasn't prisoner of that jail on wheels. But on the other one, she could be anywhere.

Was she still at that house where I left her? Had she never came back to the bus?

I tried to stop feeling guilty, but it was quite difficult to shake off that feeling. And that fucking song stuck on my head didn't even let me focus properly. In an attempt to clear my thoughts, I looked outside the window and was surprised to see that we were no longer on an empty road. Instead, a bustling city appeared before us, seemingly out of nowhere. The sight of the city made my chest tighten and my heart race.

It was a feeling, like I told her before. Like an invisible force was tugging at my heartstrings, urging me to follow it towards an unknown destination. I tried to ignore it for as long as I could, it persisted, growing stronger with each passing moment until it felt like a physical ache in my chest. I knew then that I had to act on it, to follow my heart wherever it may lead me, maybe that was the answer.

Outside, everything was gray. The tall buildings looked almost lifeless, monochromatic. The cars parked on the street were no better, their once shiny exteriors now dulled by a layer of dust and grime. Even the flowers that were trying so hard to grow in the middle of the sidewalk looked sad and wilted. It was as if the entire world had been sucked of color and life, and replaced with a bleak and desolate landscape.

It didn't feel like a dream, but the beginning of a terrible nightmare.

The bus came to a sudden halt, so abruptly I almost fell through the gaping hole in the window beside me. My heart raced with fear.

What would happen if I had gotten badly hurt? Would I wake up, or not be able to awake again?

The lady driving pierced me with her eyes through the rear view mirror, I looked at her, petrified for a split second.

"I don't have the whole day kid," she said in a voice that sounded like it came from deep in her throat, catching me off guard. I looked at her, trying to make sense of the whole situation. "Are ya gettin' out or what?" she continued, her tone impatient and her words clipped.

I realized then that she was talking to me.

Was I meant to do it?

Was it a trap?

The invisible string pulled me, tugging at me with each passing moment. I struggled to breathe, feeling more and more trapped, my chest constricting with each inhale. And yet, for some forsaken reason, the music in my head grew louder. It filled my mind with its haunting melody.

It was as if every note was a cry for help, a desperate plea to be heard.

My body started itching and I felt out of air, like the oxygen inside the bus was burning my lungs. I ran out of it, stumbling, and deep into the monochromatic city.

At that point, I had to fight an internal battle between my logical mind and an intense, primal feeling that was urging me to follow a different path.

My heart was pounding, my body aching to move in a new direction, and my instincts screaming at me to find her. Despite my initial hesitation, I knew that I had to listen to these powerful urges and trust that they would lead me to where I needed to be. It was a leap of faith, a bold move into the unknown, but I was ready for the challenge.

The rest is history, I guess Looking back on that moment, it all seems to have unfolded exactly as it was meant to, how things usually do in dreams.

My feet pounded against the pavement.

The experience was surreal.I was running through empty streets in a city I didn't know, a sour taste in my mouth. Yet that same pull kept growing stronger and stronger, leading me towards something, anything.

As I ran, the music in my head began to grow louder and louder, as if it were a soundtrack to the movie that was my life. The tempo quickened, the beat more pronounced, and I felt my heart racing in time with the melody.

And something felt wrong, so wrong.

Desperation took over me as I sprinted through the empty streets of the city. My heart was consumed with the need to find her. That feeling, that impending doom. I had to find her, and I had to find her fast.

Every time I turned a corner, my eyes scanned the deserted streets for any sign of her. I felt like I was in a race against time, and every second that passed felt like an eternity. An awful omen for what was about to come.

But just when I was about to give up hope, I caught a glimpse of an orange dot in the distance. It was her.

I ran even faster, my legs burning with the effort. My breaths came in short gasps, and my heart felt like it was going to burst out of my chest.

She was sitting in the middle of a thin alleyway, hugging her knees, and looking lost and helpless. My heart skipped a beat as I screamed her name as loud as I could, my voice echoing off the empty buildings around me.

"Chiara!" She didn't move, she looked like one of the people on the bus, the zombielike no-life forms that had deceived us before.

The sight of her was soothing to my soul. I felt like I could breathe again, like the weight of the world had been lifted off my shoulders. For a moment, all that mattered was the two of us, being together again.

"Chiara!" I screamed again, so close to her I could almost touch her. She didn't bat an eye.

As I looked at her, I could tell that something was wrong. She looked tired, and her eyes had a haunted look to them, focused on the floor in front of her. It was like she hadn't even realized I was there. I knew that we had a lot to talk about, but for now, all I wanted was to hold her close and never let her go.

"Chiara!" I almost threw myself at her.

She gasped and removed the headphones I didn't realized she was wearing, looking at them like they were haunted. Then, the music stopped abruptly.

"Jasper?" She mumbled, still looking at them.

"Oh, hey. What's up?" I tried to pretend I was cool, like I wasn't desperately looking for her three seconds ago. I even leaned on the wall like some chill dude in a 90s teen show.

"Oh shit! You're here!" She turned around so strongly it even gave me whiplash. Then looked back at the headphones, then back at me.

"Yeah, I just... screamed your name... several times?" I frowned and then sat on the floor next to her, with my back to the wall.

"Weird, it came out of these," she pointed at the headphones.

We both looked at them, puzzled. Then, at each other.

Her eyebags were deeper, darker. Her once cute and well-defined freckles were now slightly smudged and less noticeable. There was something in her eyes that I couldn't quite figure out at the time, but it was clear that something had changed.

It had been less than 24 hours, but for her it seemed like time had passed by differently, like it had been way longer. Almost as if a part of her had been lost, or perhaps a new part of her had emerged.

She rested her head on my shoulder and I shivered, the skin on her bare hands was covered in goosebumps. I moved for a second and pushed her head slightly back, she looked at me blushing and probably starting to regret that move. Then I took my jacket off and covered her with it, bringing her again towards me and putting my arm around her.

It felt nice, like it was meant to be.

"I think something is... wrong." She whispered after a while, I had gotten caught up in smelling her hair.

"What do you mean?"

"You woke up again, right?" She asked. I nodded, still feeling groggy. She looked at me with a mix of relief and worry on her face. "I didn't wake up," she continued, her voice barely above a whisper. "After you left, I went back to the bus and sat there for a while. I was so scared, I didn't know what to do. Eventually, I got up and tried to break a window. It took me a while, but I finally managed to do it."

She paused and took a deep breath. I could tell she was scared, and I didn't blame her.

"What if," she said slowly, "I don't wake up again? What if this is all there is for me?" Her eyes were wide and pleading, and I could see the fear in them.

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