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The sand tickles my bare feet, and I giggle splendidly. The sun is scorching my head, and it’s so hot that I have to put my hands protectively to my face. The smell is lavender and freshly mown grass, although there is no grass or lavender in sight. The waterfall ahead of me is splashing water on the rocks surrounding it; but the rocks don’t mind – the sun is their friend, and it takes the coldness of the water away. All around me I hear birds singing; but I cannot see them.
I woke up alarmed, trembling in my own bed. This beautiful place was more than just a dream - I could feel it in my bones. I had reason to worry: this was the third time that I had dreamt about this place, and the sixth that I had been there.
My father used to tell me of a land like this: a beautiful land where fairies, princesses and dragons lived. He described the heat so vividly, I used to be able to feel it beaming down at me. He described the grass, always full of early morning dew. There was no grass where I went now, though the smell lingered in the air.
My father died when I was four.
I’d missed him at first, and I could tell that my mother still did – but little by little I began to forget him. We didn’t keep any photos. The only things that I remembered were those wonderful fairy tales, so beautiful that I drew the place multiple times, but could never get it right.
“It’s just… It’s just that I go to this place sometimes… Hie: I’ve been going there more and more… and today I found evidence that it existed.” I murmured, my confidence slowly slipping away as her face grew even more confused.
“Woah, slow down! Hie? How strange is that? And what evidence anyway?” she said, trying to sound jokey but instead sounding rather shocked. She turned to face me. I couldn’t stop now.
“Look – don’t worry about me,” I whispered.
“I’ll be okay, just don’t tell anyone else about it because they’ll think I’m a nutter!” I tried to laugh but failed.
I smelt the Siren smell.
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