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Dreaming is not just something that you see when you are sleeping. It is not just a random scene that plays in your head while you are unconscious. It’s not just anything. It can be many things. Dreams, may be what you secretly think about. The thoughts that lay in the back of your head, or it could be a message.A messagefrom someone who has the power. The power to enter your thoughts, to enter your head, to enter your dreams. It is from a dream, that her story begins. I woke up that morning drenched in sweat, again. But this time, I couldn’t remember anything that happened in the dream. Something that shook me. Something worse than any other, something that woke me up in a depressed mood. I tried to take it off my mind as I showered, but even the steam from the hot water that covered me couldn’t take it off my mind. Something was bothering me, and I knew it wouldn’t leave till I figured it out. The smell of freshly cooked pancakesfilled my nostrils, so I hurried out of the shower and slipped quickly into my clothes. It was dark, cold and rainy today. My mood exactly. I stared in the mirror. The circles under my eyes were getting darker. I knew that it would just get worse and worse until I told someone. Maybe I could visit a therapist. But I what would I say? That I was having dreams every night that I couldn’t remember? Maybe they would just go away on their own. But they didn’t. Days went by, and I continued to wake up sweating. Sometimes I would faintly remember something. Something to do with a stick. There was a stick, and a man by the stick and he was calling me. And then, I’d sit up and I couldn’t remember what happened next. I tried everything. It got so bad I eventually tried to not sleep. But as time went on, I saw more. I was able to recall more

from the dream every time I woke up the man with the stick, he called me and I went to him. We were by a lake, and he told me he had been here everyday since I was ten. I asked him who he was and he knelt down and whispered. ‘I am him. The man you have been looking for. But quickly give me the stone, before she comes.’ I leaned in closer, That was the farthest I had ever come to recalling anything. And I had yet to learn why it scared me, who this man was, why he wanted a stone and who was coming. 2 months later, I figured it out. The doorbell rang very loudly. It was raining again and I wondered who would go through the rain to come to our house. I made my way down the stairs and opened the door surreptitiously. Every memory of the dream came rushing up. Every feeling of dread and fear surfaced, becausestanding before me on the doorstep that evening was him. The man with the stick. I gasped and stepped back, not being able to very properly processthis. I knew know. The dreams were preparing me. They were just warning signs of something that would be coming soon. The visit from the man. I quickly tried to shut the door, but the man acted quicker, the stepped forward and put his shoe in between the door and its frame, stopping it from closing. He was not as old as I had perceived, nor as sinister. He also had very fatigued face. As if he had the weight of the whole world on his shoulders. He whispered, his face near mine and his cold breath on my face ‘Let me in. I only want to help you.’ He whispered. I had somehow formed some a protective reflex against him. He must have noticed that I just stared at him becausehis next

words shocked me. ‘Damn!’ He said out loud, taking his foot out from between the door and smacking the floor with it. ‘She’s done it again!’ I stared at him, confused. ‘What?’ I asked ‘Sharmilla.’ He whispered the name as if something would happen if someone heard. ‘Who is Sharmilla? And why are you here telling me about her?’ He was starting to confuse me. Who was Sharmilla? ‘She is the most powerful person you will ever meet. She is a vampire.’ I stared at him. Waiting for him to start laughing and tell me he was just kidding and he had pulled a prank on me and that I should have seen my face, but he just stared back at me. Not uttering a word. ‘I think you should leave.’ I said starting to shut the door. ‘The nightmares you are having. Are they about me?’ That made me freeze. I slowly tilted my head upward and looked back at him. ‘H-how did you know?’ I whispered. Starting to get scared. ‘I know everything. I am your Chavú I made a snorting type of sound and asked ‘You’re my what?’ ‘Chav.’ He said. I searched his face for any sign of a snicker or a small laugh but my results were useless.Obviously he was serious about being a Shavvoo. ‘What is a Shavvoo?’ I asked. ‘I have been created to look after you. To watch you. I do not watch everything you do but I protect you from evil. This house you live in, I have covered from attic to basement with Chorchol. Which keeps away spirits. This house would be filled with them had I not done that. Many housesare, but few people who live in the house are like you.’ ‘What is that supposed to mean?’


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