Somewhere Only We Know

(Sneak Peek of one of my upcoming books!)

‼️⚠️SENSITIVE CONTENT⚠️‼️

Other Topics/Categories: Dark Romance/Angst

I woke up, slightly disoriented, the remnants of an unsettling dream clinging to the edges of my consciousness like cobwebs in a forgotten corner. The last thing I could vividly recall was the all-too-familiar sound of Mother and Father’s voices raised in violent contention, shattering the fragile veneer of my childhood home. Their incessant fighting wasn't new; it had become a cruel symphony that played almost every other night, filling the air with tension and dread. But this time, it had escalated beyond the usual chaos. I could still hear his slurred words, punctuated by the metallic clink of the gun he brandished, its presence heavy like the fog rolling in. Mother’s terrified silence spoke volumes as she stood there, a lone figure against the storm of his anger.

When my senses finally kicked in, I realized that I wasn’t nestled in the safety of my bedroom or hidden within the quiet walls of the library—the sanctuary I often retreated to in search of solace, where the weight of the world momentarily melted away into the pages of forgotten tomes. No, this place was entirely different, mysterious and foreboding.

I looked up, and there it was: a green canopy of willow trees draped overhead, their branches swaying gently like ghostly fingers beckoning me deeper into their bosom. The birds' calls echoed unsettlingly, a cacophony that was both melodious and sinister, warbling through the stillness like dissonant chimes stirred by an unseen breeze.

Alarm coursed through me as I sat up quickly, the mossy rock beneath me an anchor to reality. As I cast my gaze around, my breath stuttered in my throat, held captive by the awe of this surreal scene. The forest unfolded like an ethereal painting, with willow trees draped in thick emerald moss standing sentinel under an otherworldly sky—a vibrant, unnatural color of deep purple that shimmered and pulsed as if it were alive, flickering like the residue of some long-forgotten magical explosion.

I found myself reluctant, though, as stunning as the sight was—I longed for the familiarity of home, for the comfort of my bed, to lose myself not in dreams, but in the embrace of reality. I instinctively checked my watch, only to find it lifeless, a useless gadget in this inexplicable world where time felt warped.

With each tentative movement, I tried to rise from the rock, my limbs unsteady as if I were a newborn fawn taking its first tentative steps. The forest was alive with sounds—rustling leaves, distant calls of creatures unknown to me, each call echoing like a half-remembered nightmare. It sent a shiver skittering down my spine, awakening a primal fear deep within me. Back at home, I had friends—guardians of a kind—who would brave the depths of hell for me. But here? Here, I was utterly, achingly… lost.

Rationality kicked in, fizzling slowly through the overwhelming disorientation. This has to be a dream, I convinced myself, one of those long, strange dreams that stretch past the limits of comfort. So I sat there, wrapped in my thoughts, while shadows danced around me, the sun's angle shifting as hours—maybe even days—seemed to collapse into an eternity.

With a sigh that echoed the weariness of my bones, I decided to take action. My stomach growled, a startling reminder of my humanity, and I frowned, wondering if it was normal to feel hunger in dreams. Just as I began to ponder this bizarre phenomenon, something flashed past me—a sudden blur, a flicker of movement that vanished like a whisper on the breeze. I leaped after it, but the strange sight eluded me. Perhaps it was a trick of my own stressed mind, I thought, trying to dismiss the unsettling impulse that clawed at my gut.

As darkness began to encroach upon my clearing, I fashioned a place of refuge beneath the maypole of willow trees. I wove branches together to create a lattice of privacy, a makeshift camp that seemed futile in the vast, eerie wilderness where no soul could be seen, but I felt an ancestral instinct pushing me to build something—a barrier against the unseen. Something about the atmosphere made me feel as though I were being watched, weighed and measured by eyes hidden among the shadows.

Then, unexpectedly, a voice pierced the veil of silence, smooth and malevolent, "You’re alone, hm?"

I jolted at the sound, my heart pounding like a drum in my chest. The voice caressed my senses, sending a chill rippling down my spine as if a ghostly breath whispered secrets meant only for me.

Wait… ghosts? The thought sent a new wave of adrenaline surging through me.

I swallowed hard, struggling to steady my racing heart. “W-What are you? Why can't I see you?” My voice trembled, betraying the fear gnawing at my insides.

A low, rumbling laugh filled the air, tantalizing and dark, “My dear… you’re quite lost, aren’t you, love?” The way that last word echoed left a bitter taste in my mouth, a mingling of dread and curiosity.

“I-I might be. But what is this place, anyway?” I asked, my voice barely rising above a whisper.

From behind me, an arm wrapped around my waist, its touch impossibly cold, paralyzing. I flinched, but it held me tighter, as if possession were its purpose. The voice sighed, almost wistful, “I decide when you see me and when you cannot. This place… is not meant for you. Tell me… does my voice sound familiar to you?”

Frowning, I shook my head, “No, you don’t. Why don’t you want me to see you? I’m not scared… much, anyways,” I reassured myself, though my heart felt as if it might burst from its cage.

I sensed annoyance in the voice, felt it wrap around me like a shroud. “Looks like our time is up for now, my love. Soon, you’ll return. I’ll ensure it,” it murmured, the cold touch of its breath skimming my neck, igniting my senses with a mixture of fear and something deeper, more ignoble. “Until then.”

Suddenly, everything around me faded, the world dissolving like mist before the dawn, and I jolted awake, gasping, to find myself confined within the sterile walls of a hospital room, the whirring machines a chorus of painful reality. A nurse rushed in, her face a mask of concern.

“Do not panic, Daniela, you have been in a coma for six days.”

The words felt like a punch to my gut, and all at once, I was plunged back into the darkest recesses of my dream. Had it been merely that—a dream? Or was it a portent of something more sinister that lay ahead, buried within the shadows, waiting to awaken?