Eternally Yours

“I’ll miss you, Claire,” he whispers. “I’ll miss you every second of every day until I find you again.”

“What are you talking about?” the girl demanded, tears streaming down her face. “Why are you talking like you are never going to see me again? Are you leaving?”

“For a while, darling, for a while – but I will find you in another life, in another time, as I always do.” He took the girl up in his arms and pulled her tightly against his chest.

“Where are you going?” the girl, Claire, cried, pulling away to look up at him.

“I’m just going away for a little while, love.” He smiled down at her but it was a strained smile.

He’s lying. I don’t know how I can tell, but I can just feel it. I can also feel that something bad is going to happen.

“You’ll come back for me?” she pleaded.

“Of course,” he assured her, wiping her tears from her cheeks with his thumbs. “I always come back for you – every time.”

She looked at him, a deep crease in her forehead and her nose wrinkled up. “I don’t understand. What are you talking about? You always come back for me?”

“Don’t worry, Claire. You’ll understand soon enough, love.” He looked around then, like he’d heard something. “I’ve got to go, alright?”

“No!” she shouted, rushing after him, grabbing his arm. “Don’t leave!”

“I’ll be back. I promise.” Then he leaned down and kissed her full on the lips. When he pulled away he turned his head away from her, giving me a clear view of his face, complete with agony, and glowing red eyes.

I roll over in bed and sigh. Another Claire and Andrew dream. I thought that they’d finally gone away.

“Wake up!” My overly-perky-for-this-early-in-the-morning sister screamed, banging on my bedroom door. “Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!” she sang as she waltzed into my room. I ignored her, groaning and pulling my pillow over my head. I felt the tug of my covers being pulled from my bed and the soft whisper as they hit the floor.

“Go away,” I moaned, curling up into a ball.

“Come on, Sienna,” Cora urged. “Get up! We have stuff to talk about!”

“I’m asleep,” I tell her. She taps her heel on my floor impatiently. “Go away. I said I’m asleep, or didn’t you notice?”

“Rise and shine!” she announced, pulling my pillow away from my face. I blinked into the sudden sunlight and winced.

“What?!” I practically growl at her. “It’s too early for this!”

“It’s twelve, hun,” she says, a smug smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Twelve in the afternoon. Now get up and shut up so I can tell you about my date.”

Giving up, I pull myself into a sitting position, recovering my blankets from the floor and pulling them around myself, leaning against the wall. I glare at her.

“I went out with the greatest guy! He’s so amazing and sweet,” she gushed.

“Yay,” I respond sourly.

“This is serious!” she scolds. “He could be the one.” She flutters her eyelashes dramatically and clasps her hands together and brings them to her cheek, trying but not succeeding at looking angelically in love.

“You say that about all of them.” And it’s true. She falls for every single guy she goes out with in a matter of seconds.

“You don’t get it! He’s the one! He’s so amazing! He listened to every word I said, and like seriously listened. He didn’t just pretend to listen like you do, but he actually paid attention to what I was saying. And then had something intelligent to comment with, unlike you. You always say I talk too much, but he said it wasn’t true.” She beamed at me, waiting for a response.

The guy must have issues. My thinking Cora talks too much is not an opinion—it’s a fact. Her constant stream of babble could make even a deaf person tie their own noose.

“Wow, he is the one,” I say sarcastically. “Anyone who can put up with your constant chatter deserves an award.”

“You’re really bitchy when you wake up aren’t you?” she hisses.

I sigh and rub my eyes. “Sorry,” I mumble. “It’s not you. It’s those damn dreams.”

At this, her face lights up and she leans forward eagerly. “No way. More Claire and Andrew dreams? I thought those had stopped.”

“So did I,” I answered dourly.

I’ve had dreams of Claire and Andrew since I was a little girl. I don’t think anyone else has dreams like these. They feel so real, but I am aware the entire time that I am dreaming. I’m not a part of the dream, either, I’m only watching from a corner somewhere and I can only see what is right in front of me, which is always Claire and Andrew. The dreams are like a story, starting from the beginning and going all the way to the end, which I had thought was about a year ago. Nothing spectacular had happened to make me think it was the end of their story, the dreams just stopped.

“Well tell me!” she urged. “What happened this time? I hope it’s something good.”

“It was nothing really. He was just telling her that he had to leave but that he’d be back.”

“That’s kind of boring. Was she like crying and screaming and begging him not to leave?”

I shake my head. “Not too much. There was something weird, though, that caught my attention. He said that he’d find her again in another life and another time. Claire just seemed really confused.”

“Well, what in the hell does that mean? Another life… like reincarnation? Is that what he’s telling her? That he’s going to die but he’ll find her again when he’s reincarnated?”

“I don’t know, but…” I trail off, rolling my eyes as I realize how ridiculous we sound. What are we doing? Talking as if Claire and Andrew are real and gossiping about a relationship that is completely fictional—a dream for crying out loud—is a step towards losing my sanity that I do not want to take. “What does it even matter?” I sigh. “None of it is real.”

“Yeah, but I’ve never had dreams like yours. I’m pretty sure no one has. I mean, do you even have normal dreams? Nightmares? Dreams where you forgot your clothes when you walk across the stage when you graduate in a school made out of candy but it’s okay because all of the audience is stuffed animals and none of them care if they see you naked—crazy dreams like that?”

“Uh… no? What kind of fucked up dreams are you having?”

“That’s not the point,” she argues, shaking her head. “The point is that you are not normal.”

“Gee, thanks so much,” I groan, glowering at her.

“You are absolutely welcome. Now come on, I had another reason for waking you up. Let’s hit up Starbucks, babe. I would kill for a venti mocha anything right now.”