Myra.
Shortly after my conversation with the witch, I had fallen asleep again and had been in a pit o something that I will call a nightmare. It wasn’t my worst nor was it the best because only one man kept on coming to my sleep until I couldn’t keep up with it anymore.
I woke myself up from my sleep, my breathing raging with each passing minutes and all I needed was a bath. My skin was itching; it was felt like there was something moving in me, it felt so much different than before. And the bracelet on my wrist wasn’t paining me anymore; it felt as if there hasn’t been anything there. “I see that you are awake and you have met your father.” The witch, whose name I had later learned to be Nora uttered.
“My father? The man in my dreams was my father?” I asked her. If indeed that man was
