Dream prophecy

Sarah - A 17-year-old high school student, the protagonist, hiding a secret.

Emily - Sarah's best friend, supportive and perceptive.

Mr. Thompson - Their history teacher, known for his engaging classes.

Michael - A classmate with a crush on Sarah, friendly and a bit awkward.

Sarah clutched the worn leather journal to her chest, her heart hammering against her ribs. It was the same journal her grandfather had given her last summer. The journal held a secret, one she guarded more fiercely than anything else in her life. It wasn't a diary filled with teenage angst or crushes, but something far more extraordinary.

Sarah was a dreamer, but not in the typical sense. Her dreams were vivid, detailed, and, most importantly, they came true. It started subtly – a dream about a pop quiz in Mr. Thompson's history class, and the next day, there it was. A dream about Emily tripping in the hallway, and it happened. At first, she dismissed it as coincidence, but as the dreams grew more frequent and accurate, she couldn't ignore the truth.

She could see the future, but only in her dreams. The journal was her attempt to control it, to understand it. She wrote down every dream, every detail, hoping to decipher the rules of her strange gift.

"Hey, Sarah, you okay? You seem a little out of it," Emily said, nudging her with a concerned look.

Sarah jumped, startled. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just thinking about Mr. Thompson's history assignment."

Emily raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. "Right. The assignment that's not due for another two weeks. Come on, spill. What's going on?"

Sarah hesitated. She wanted to tell Emily, her best friend since kindergarten, but the fear of ridicule held her back. How could she explain something so unbelievable? "It's nothing, Em. Really."

Emily didn't push, but Sarah could see the curiosity simmering in her eyes. They walked into Mr. Thompson's class, the familiar scent of old books and chalk filling the air. Mr. Thompson was a young, enthusiastic teacher who had a knack for making history come alive.

"Alright, class," Mr. Thompson began, "as you know, your assignment is to research a historical event and present it to the class. I want you to dig deep, find interesting angles, and make it engaging."

Sarah tuned out the rest of his instructions, her mind racing. Last night, she had a dream about the assignment. In her dream, Michael, the awkward but sweet classmate who always blushed when he talked to her, presented on the sinking of the Titanic. He stumbled over his words, the projector malfunctioned, and the whole class laughed.

Sarah felt a pang of sympathy for Michael. He was a nice guy, and she knew how much this presentation meant to him. She glanced over at him, his brow furrowed in concentration as he scribbled notes.

That night, Sarah dreamt again. This time, she was standing on the deck of the Titanic, the air crisp and cold. She saw the iceberg looming in the distance, the collision, the chaos, and the chilling screams as the ship went down. She woke up in a cold sweat, her heart pounding.

The dream was more vivid than any she had before, and it felt… different. It wasn't just a glimpse of the future; it was a warning. She knew she had to do something, but what?

The next day, Sarah found Michael in the library, surrounded by books about the Titanic. He looked stressed and overwhelmed.

"Hey, Michael," she said, trying to sound casual. "How's the presentation coming?"

Michael sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. "It's a disaster. I can't seem to find anything interesting, and I'm terrified of public speaking."

Sarah hesitated, her secret weighing heavily on her. She couldn't tell him about her dreams, but she could help him. "Maybe I can help you with your research," she offered. "I've always been fascinated by the Titanic."

Michael's face lit up. "Really? That would be amazing, Sarah! Thank you!"

Over the next few days, Sarah and Michael worked together in the library. Sarah used her knowledge from her dream to guide their research, pointing out obscure facts and interesting details. She helped him structure his presentation, making it more engaging and informative.

As they worked, Sarah found herself enjoying Michael's company. He was kind, funny, and genuinely interested in what she had to say. She started to see him in a new light, beyond his awkwardness and blushing.

The day of the presentations arrived, and Sarah couldn't shake the feeling of unease. She knew what was going to happen, but she didn't know how to prevent it.

Michael was the third presenter. As he walked to the front of the class, Sarah's heart pounded in her chest. He looked nervous, but he also seemed more confident than she had ever seen him.

He started his presentation, his voice trembling slightly at first, but as he got into the details of the Titanic, his confidence grew. He spoke passionately about the ship, its passengers, and the tragic events that led to its sinking.

Sarah watched, her breath held captive in her lungs. So far, everything was going according to her dream. But then, something unexpected happened.

As Michael was about to show a slide of the Titanic's blueprint, the projector flickered and died. The class groaned, and Michael's face fell.

"I'm so sorry, everyone," he stammered, his voice cracking. "I don't know what happened."

Sarah knew this was the moment from her dream, the moment when the class would laugh at him. But instead of laughing, something else happened.

Emily stood up. "Hey, Mr. Thompson," she said, "can we take a five-minute break while Michael tries to fix the projector?"

Mr. Thompson nodded. "Of course, Emily. Good thinking."

The class started chatting amongst themselves, giving Michael a chance to collect himself. Sarah rushed to his side.

"Hey, it's okay," she said, her voice soothing. "These things happen. Just take a deep breath and try again."

Michael took a deep breath, his eyes meeting hers. "Thanks, Sarah. I don't know what I would do without you."

He fiddled with the projector, and after a few minutes, he managed to get it working again. He continued his presentation, his voice stronger and more confident than before.

He finished his presentation to a round of applause. Mr. Thompson praised him for his thorough research and engaging delivery. Michael beamed, his cheeks flushed with pride.

Sarah watched him, a wave of relief washing over her. The dream had come true, but not in the way she had expected. The projector had malfunctioned, but the class hadn't laughed. Instead, they had shown support and understanding.

As Michael walked back to his seat, he gave Sarah a grateful smile. "Thank you, Sarah," he whispered. "You really saved me."

Sarah smiled back, her heart feeling lighter than it had in weeks. Maybe her dreams weren't just about seeing the future, but about changing it.

That night, Sarah wrote in her journal, her pen flying across the page. She wrote about Michael's presentation, about Emily's support, and about the power of kindness.

She realized that her secret wasn't just a burden, but a gift. A gift that could help her make a difference in the world, one dream at a time. She still didn't understand the rules of her gift, but she was no longer afraid. She was ready to embrace it, to learn from it, and to use it to make the world a better place.

As she closed her journal, she knew that her journey had just begun. The future was uncertain, but for the first time in a long time, Sarah felt hopeful. She had

a secret, yes, but she also had the power to change the world, one dream at a time.