117

--TheirWorld--

“Lai’ara!” Dassah shouted, sitting up in her bed. Through sputtering breaths, she managed to inhale short gulps of air.

And she remembered.

Fractures of memories emotions pulsed through her.

Lai’ara.

The name hurt. It took hold of her heart, gripped it tight, and refused to let go. Face wet with tears, she rubbed her chest, hoping at least the pressure would dissipate.

The fractures started to leave as quickly as they had come.

She shook her head, and took hold of what she could.

Lai’ara. Lai’ara. Lai’ara.

Dassah looked up at the textured ceiling of her room and took deep breaths, trying to grasp the image of the girl’s face and etch it into her mind.

As the adrenaline wore off, however, she found herself questioning, doubting. That scene, though it felt real as day, was not a real memory of hers. The girl, she was played by the Lady. Doctor Sere was played by Sav — but a Sav she hated.

She racked her mind, looking for a clue, an answer — she almost desperately wanted it to be real, but there was no reason she could think of as to . Aside from her existence as the Lady, she was sure she’d never seen the girl before.

‘Mommy’, she had called her — or whoever eyes it was she’d borrowed in the dream.

But Dassah was not a mother of anyone. At least, not in her recollection. She’d had lovers, yes, but no children. Not to mention her age. If she’d a child of that age, she would have been no more than fifteen or sixteen years old.

What had happened at that age? She hadn’t even had her first boyfriend yet. Could she had forgotten? Gotten amnesia from some trauma? Images of highschool teachers and classmates were dragged through her mind, and she shook her head.

Even if there had been consistency errors — and she couldn’t think of a single one — the girl had clearly seen her as a mother. It was implied that, at least to some degree, the woman she was in these dreams had raised her; cared for her. In Dassah’s own memory, there were no children like that. There was just her, her mother, father, sister — a sister who wasn’t much younger than she was — two dogs and a cat, all living off in the middle of the woods somewhere in New York State. They’d never left the safety of those mountains. Dassah was the first of her family to even leave the state, going as far as leaving the country before the planet — and that was little more than four months ago. Certainly not enough time to have met Doctor Sere and gone to rehab as was implied.

Head throbbing and still foggy from sleep, she swooned.

What was happening to her?

It’s just the stress, she told herself. But it all felt so real.

“Dassah?” Stella was looking at her through a slightly opened door. Her eyes went wide when she took Dassah’s state and quickly moved to sit on her bed. “What is it, What’s wrong? You’re a mess…” The young woman quickly checked her forehead.

The door creaked wider, and Bahena’s face appeared. “Did she have a nightmare?” she asked, turning on the light as she came in herself.

Still trying to breathe properly, Dassah shook her head. No. It hadn’t been a nightmare. It hadn’t been — but what else was she to call it?

“I’ll get her some water,” Stella went, leaving the room.

Hopping up on the foot of Dassah’s bed, Bahena sat on her haunches. “Is there anything I can get for you? You went through a lot yesterday.”

“I-It’s okay,” Dassah said, shaking her head again. “It… wasn’t about last night.”

“Not about last night?” Bahena asked.

“No… I just… have these dreams, sometimes,” she told her. The talking was helping to loosen the tension in her throat. Finding it easier to breathe, she said, “They’re more to do with TheirWorld, actually. Absurd, isn’t it?” Dassah laughed. “They’re just… Unsettling. I don’t really understand them.”

Cocking her head to one side, Bahena asked, “Why would you dream about TheirWorld?”

“I wish I knew,” said Dassah as Stella came back in holding a tall glass of water and carrying a little bag. “They’re just… dreams, really.”

“Scary dreams?” asked Stella, combing out Dassah’s hair and braiding it down over her shoulder.

Pulling on her fingers, Dassah said, “Sometimes. And sometimes… sometimes it’s more frightening to consider that… in order for what I see in those dreams to be real, other things need to be real, too.”

“You think that your dreams are… real?” asked Bahena before she looked to stare at Stella. “She’s not a child, you know.”

“Everyone has a right to be spoiled when there is such an occasion,” Stella said lightly, finishing off Dassah’s braid with a thin blue tie. “An unsteady heart never sleeps soundly, so we must work to please it, my grandmama used to say.” Then she scrunched her nose and added, “Feel free to spoil me anytime.”

“You’re spoiled anyway,” the bronze scaled garule noted.

Stella hushed her and took away the empty water glass, setting it on the nightstand along with her little bag. “Scoot over,” she said, tapping Dassah’s arm lightly. The young woman slipped under the covers beside her.

“What are you doing?” asked Dassah, blinking.

“Stealing body heat,” Stella said. “Bahena, come join us; this bed is big enough. All three of us need to get a little more sleep before we just back into fantasy land, okay? Come on.”

No strength left in her to fight it, Dassah conceded. By the time Stella’s head hit the pillow, she was out.

Chuckling, Bahena curled up at the foot of the bed.

“Bahena…” Dassah started, wondering which part of this should really be encouraged, but not wanting the garule woman to feel left out.

But Bahena shook her head. “I’ll keep to my own space,” she answered with a wry smile. “Curling up is far more comfortable for me, anyway.”

“Are you warm enough?”

“I’ll be just fine, and if I’m not, I am more than capable of fixing that,” she told her. “Get some rest, Dassah.”

Laying back, Dassah pulled her pillow under her head and to her chest. The warmth at her feet and side spread through to her bones. That’s right, she smiled a little. Regardless of what was real and what wasn’t, who Lai’ara was or what she meant; regardless of those who would be after her and that which she cared for — she wasn’t alone; not like that woman in her dreams. And that makes all the difference, doesn’t it?

Closing her eyes, she drifted off.