Warrior Princess

I had a realistic dream when I was young. The first scene was about a man in his thirties in a fancy room arguing with my dad. He looked a little like me -brown hair, brown eyes and fair skin- and was tall in size. I was amazed and asked who he was, even though he wasn't focused on me. When I tried to touch him, my hand went through his body. That was the first time I understood the word vision: no one could see or hear you. The next scene was told by my mom, Elinor, who was pregnant with me. She hoped I would grow up healthy, strong, and with leadership. Her words made me smile. The final scene was about a burning area. I was running around for help, but no one came. My head was spinning and I couldn’t breathe. “Mommy! Sir! Where are you?” People whom I never met were turning into charred corpses before my eyes. A young man hid his pain by hiding his face. I ran to the man and hugged him tight as the fire consumed us. I’d usually wake up in a cold sweat after that, but that dream forced me away from the fire itself.