The Fire & The Lily

It was pitch black. She was still sweaty and brathing rapidly from the dream...or nightmare. She couldn't even say. She tries to reach for the light and hears a loud thump - she just dropped the lampshade. Her intention was to write on the little notepad she got from her mom on her birthday: it was from Asia, from some country she didn't recall at the time, but had some weird letters and a lotus flower. She wanted to write down that dream. For weeks she had been having them, just after she "became a woman". Never went through her head how things could change so much in so little time. She grabs her cellphone and turns the flashlight on. Now, layed on her stomach she starts writing. " I had that dream again, but now beyond the crying woman dessed in a red cloth I can also remember the sea, and "- she paused to put her thoughts together -" wood on the floor." Lily stops writing. Unfortunately she couldn't gather anything else from her memory. -Great.Now the sleep is gone. She gets out of the bedroom foot by foot. She goes by her sisters bedroom, walking down the stairs slowly. She goes to the kitchen and climbs on the counter to get her favourite mug, the one with her photo on. It was her gift to her father on some father's day, but as her parents were now always abroad she liked to use that one as it reminded her of him. She carefully takes the milk of the fridge, suddenly reminding her grandmother, who should awake any time soon, as the sun was getting trough the holes in the shutters. She drank her milk squatting on top of a chair and ran to her room leaving the glass on the sink with almost no noise. She gets in the bed and tries not to think about the wailing woman in her dream, as she could feel her agony. She remembers it's not school day, but as it was Sunday, probably her grandmother was planning to go to church. And thinking about what excuse she would give to her grandmother to skip it, she fell asleep.