CELESTE
Ever since I was born, I've had these strange, fragmented dreams.
They were hard to describe—disjointed flashes of shadowy figures and distant voices that always felt just out of reach. Like watching a memory that wasn't mine, or hearing whispers behind a thick wall. I could never make sense of them, and maybe deep down… I didn't really want to.
At first, I brushed them off. They were just dreams, right? Unsettling, yes, but dreams all the same. And yet, sometimes it felt like I was living a second life behind my eyelids—a blurred existence parallel to my own. The strange part was how, no matter how vivid they were in the moment, they slipped away the instant I woke up. Like sand running through my fingers.
Only hazy fragments remained. Nothing solid enough to hold onto. Still, a feeling always lingered—an ache in my chest, a hollow unease—as if something wasn't quite right.
