- Good evening, brother. It's morning here, on the other side of the earth and I'm barely awake. It's been the 12th night in a row that I've been experiencing something utterly weird. I wouldn't normally bother your scientific pretty head with this but I fear it's your fault.
- Good morning, sister. Funny, I was just thinking of you while watching a glorious sunset. It reminded me of the desert scapes you live amongst. I was going to write something about it while it's still fresh in my mind but I'll do it later. Anyway... What did I do now?
- Ok. There's this girl... she's haunting me. She keeps popping up in my dreams. At least I think I'm dreaming. Sometimes I can also hear her when I'm awake. Like an echo. Strange thing is, I've never seen her before in my life. I don't know who she is. She never told me her name. Apparently she doesn't know mine, either. I have no idea how she found me, how she got in touch with me. But she did. And she constantly knocks on my subconscience door. Right the second after my brainwaves shut it behind.
- Trying not to raise an eyebrow here. :) So, what does she want from you? Do you have reasons to be scared?
- Well... her first visit scared the shit out of me. I was in my bed. You know me, I still twist from side to side a dozen times before I black out. I did the mistake of opening my eyes when I turned towards the window. I froze. Truly frightened. At least for the first 30 seconds. Because she just sat there, on the heater, staring out the window with a puzzled look on her face. Then she turned her head and studied the room. In silence. First I thought she was a burgler, or a homeless person, someone real who happened to enter my room while I was brushing my teeth a few minutes back. Didn't strike me as a vision or a spectre. She was as solid as anyone surrounding you, dear brother, on your daily hunt for cigarettes. I still have no idea why I felt no impulse to call 911, no survival instinct whatsoever. The expression on her face must have caught my attention and pinned me down. Looking back, I think she was even more scared than I was. So I sat on the corner of my bed, the furthermost away from her but close enough to study her and I tried to utter something. I don't know if I managed to say it out loud.
Apprehensive, first thing she said to me was "I left my confortable bed this morning not knowing where to go". After a pause, a little more confident, with the confirmation that I was listening and understanding she continued: "It's a weekday so even if I didn't feel like it, I took the bus, on my way to the office, put my headphones on, sorta' hypnotizing myself with the oh-so-familiar streets and stop signs and advertising billboards. It was all boring and fine. Then, instead of the abandoned railroad and scattered garbage that were usually beneath the bridge I saw a highway. And the traffic was frantic already. I wanted to laugh at my own delusion. How could they have built that overnight?! It wasn't there yesterday. At the end of the bridge I was waiting for a confirmation that I didn't take the wrong bus. I wanted to see the fishmarket on my left. No fishmarket. Instead, a gas station. The movement stopped. No more driving. No more engine noise. It was time to figure it out. I looked further ahead trying to identify my city, the polluted industrial area that should have raised its severe silhouettes against the horizon. Instead, a suburban area, with middle-class-type houses like those in american movies. That's when I knew something was off. Still, I wanted to check with the people on the bus when I turned my head and there was no bus but a bed. There was no sunlight but moonlight. There was no white noise on the radio but silence. There were no bus people but a woman in pijamas. You."
Then she waited for a word from me, a word of comfort, something she could hold onto and prevent her from losing her mind.
- Sis? So what does it have to do with me?
