"Please acknowledge my authority, I am not your hostile!"
"Please halt"
"Ah!..Ah!" trembling
"I am not that witch....." A shout
Pragh sees nothing except the vacant darkness. He kept questioning what is unfolding. He lifted his voice inside the emptiness.
"Hey! Are you okay?"
"Where are you? I can't perceive anything!"
An abrupt burst of disturbing warm blood smeared his sight. Pragh pulled his torso up from the pillow with racing heartbeat, damp skin, and quick breaths. It was dream yet he still sensed the heat that red liquid held.
"Again!" with a gloom in his stare and shaking fingers as he raised his blanket.
From the floors beneath, his Aunt Ameeshell called for him.
"Breakfast is ready, Pragh! Are you still awake?"
"Yeah, I am up!" replied Pragh with a cheerful tone but mind drifting back to the dream.
He was bare-chested while resting, so as he leaned left to step off the bed. He grabbed his shirt hanging at the bed's corner. As his feet reached down, the softness of the carpet comforted him.
He walked down the stairs while asking into the still air,
"Was that you, Cons? The one who every night begs for mercy?"
The reply from Constant brushed his hearing: "No! I only keep thinking about why you tremble each night, even during heat."
"Still, the voice feels so freezing. That warm splash each time strikes my face like I'm some basin." said Pragh stepping into the Wash Room without shoes.
"Was someone shouting that I'm not a witch?" asked Cons, unseen by sight.
"I can't recall any lines, yet the sensation it leaves daily feels soul crushing," said Parth, his voice stuttering, eyes widening, and his hands lifting water before the quiet mirror now.
Ameeshell glanced inside, finding the door ajar, her eyes shut with a gentle smile.
" Hey Pragh! Let's grab something to eat!" said Ameeshell sensing her mother's tone that having a meal would feel pleasant together.
Pragh stiffened, and discovered a short moment to release his burdens.
" Was that you?" he asked in a slow tone, unintentionally escaping from his tongue.
"What?" her lips tightened, shaping a compact line at the center with a slight halt of the earlier cheer.
"Nothing, leave it! Let's enjoy something good together." said Pragh attempting to hide his unease.
" Alright then, rinse your face and come sit out here! I will wait for you."
Ameeshell walked toward the kitchen, humming softly along her path.
" Why can't I recall anything? Not even a single line. Who appears nightly or sometimes alternately in my dream. It's choking at times, the foul odour, warmth of fluid and the shivers it brings feel unbearable." countless thoughts spun within Pragh's mind.
Ameeshell prepared the table, food nearly ready to serve. As usual Pragh's mind cooled and he now sensed calm. He stepped inside the kitchen.
"Here's your favourite, Dasmoudens. Isn't it?" said Ameeshell with an overflowing smile.
(*From the diary of fiction; Dasmoudens: a fluffy and juicy sweet bread crafted with rice dough, soda and sweet dragon berries seasoned with spring onions and egg yolk)
"Yes, but the ones you prepare are best" said Pragh in a steady, hushed tone.
"So let's eat together, a wide mouth open and slide it inside, plenty of saliva melting it and a little piece drifting from the outer world. Yummyyyy!" her face flushed as the warmth from the bread spread inside her mouth.
Pragh kept eating and admiring it a lot, yet the flavor wasn't touching his buds today.
"A something to engage me daily, but I crave purpose and cause to do it. I assume such dreams are born from my vacant mind" ~ Pragh.
[Chapter 1: Fresh Tale, Begins!] end here
[Chapter2] will come soon