SHADOW OF MYSELF

Chapter Four (ii)

Prisca's POV

A jolt of familiarity ran through me as I saw Joshua standing there. It was like staring into a forgotten reflection, a deep bond stirring within me for no apparent reason. Shoving down the strange feeling, I shook my head and turned away.

Footsteps brushed closer, but I remained a statue, rooted to the spot. When his presence filled the space behind me, his voice, laced with concern, sent shivers down my spine despite the confusion. "Prisca, don't be afraid of those dreams. Embrace them. They're like mirrors, reflecting hidden aspects of ourselves. Your dreams are no different."

Tears welled in my eyes as I cut him off, spinning around to face him. "Really? You think they're just a reflection? They can't be! I have no connection to them. That scene, someone dying for me – that's never happened! I'm just an ordinary eighteen-year-old, Joshua. Don't tell me how to handle my dreams! You just arrived, you don't understand the fear that consumes me every night, the dread of another haunting vision!"

To my surprise, Joshua pulled me into a hug. An inexplicable sense of familiarity washed over me, as if this wasn't our first embrace.

His strong arms offered a strange sense of comfort, a sensation that defied logic. Startled by the unfamiliar reaction, I pulled back, my tear-filled eyes searching his. "Do you think this will end, Joshua? Will the fear ever vanish?"

His gaze held a depth of sincerity that felt like a window to his soul, if only I could see through it. "Yes," he said, his voice steady as he met my eyes. "You will overcome it if you don't let fear control you.

Don't try to pry into my secrets, Prisca. You will understand when your dreams unfold completely, but for now, they've only revealed a fraction. There's a long road ahead."

My gaze drifted away. A gnawing suspicion took root. He seemed to know more than I did. His words echoed a similar sentiment from his mother.

Were they somehow privy to the meaning of these dreams? No, that couldn't be. He must've read my diary, that's it.

Before I could voice my suspicion, his brother interrupted, his surprised expression fleeting as he announced, "Mom wants to speak with you, Joshua." With a sigh that wasn't for Joshua's departure, but for the strange sense he understood my pain, I settled back into the chair. Closing my eyes, I sought solace in the quiet. But instead, a jarring sound pierced the silence – my phone ringing. It wasn't with me, yet the sound seemed to emanate from within the room.

Panic clawed at me as I searched my pockets and the surrounding area in vain. Ignoring the insistent buzzing, I squeezed my eyes shut tighter, trying to calm the chaos within.

Suddenly, a cacophony of voices flooded my head. Disjointed conversations swirled in a mind-numbing mix.

I snapped my eyes open, heart pounding, the phone's phantom ringing fading into the background. It felt so real, like I could eavesdrop on multiple conversations simultaneously.

Driven by an inexplicable urge, I rose and headed towards my room, needing to capture this bizarre experience in my diary.

Reaching the doorway, I found Joshua leaning against it, his expression a silent promise of support. However, a sudden, inexplicable aversion washed over me.

Without a word, I pushed past him, a surprising surge of strength sending him stumbling back.

Inside the room, I slammed the door shut and bolted the lock. This sudden isolation, the need for privacy, was a primal instinct I couldn't explain.

Rushing to my diary, a wave of dizziness crashed over me, followed by the sweet oblivion of unconsciousness.

Joshua's POV