Was it a Dream… or a Nightmare?

I’ve always been a vivid dreamer. Like, really vivid. To the point where I can’t always tell what’s a real memory and what was just a really, really mundane dream. 

So when I woke up in the middle of the night, my dorm room dimly lit by the lamp just outside my window, I genuinely thought there was a young woman looming over me. 

Her skin was almost grey, though that easily could have been the low lighting, and her eyes were nearly glowing gold. She looked pissed, but in that cold sort of way where her jaw was tight and her lips were pressed into a thin line. Her dark hair was free from any braid or rubber band, but it was mostly tucked into her leather jacket. Her hands were gloved.

I recognized her immediately. Misty, one of my beloved characters. She’s been a character of mine for over seven years, and I really pulled a number on her. She has the harshest backstory of anybody that I’ve created. I won’t go into the details of said backstory, but just know that she is an assassin.

She stared at me for a moment, her eyes burning with hatred, before a cold smile grew across her lips. “It’s time for you to reap the benefits of what you made,” she told me in a voice lower than I had expected. 

That’s when I saw the knife.

It was made from obsidian, nothing I have ever given her, and curved just slightly. The handle was braided black leather, and at the very bottom of the hilt was a small ruby. The knife was the last thing I saw. 

She swung it in a graceful arch, burying it deep in my chest, and I awoke with a start.

Well, more than a start. I sat up, then promptly proceeded to fall out of bed, then ran to the window looking for Misty. I didn’t go back to sleep that night. I stayed up with the lights on, practicing Moonlight Sonata on my keyboard.