"Ms. Evadne Persephone Monteverde, Dr. Uriel will see you now," the nurse announced softly.
Evadne sat in the waiting area beside her parents, her fingers loosely tangled together as she stared ahead blankly.
"Let's go, hon," Romos said with a warm smile, standing up and offering his hand. Cielo followed closely as the three entered the private clinic.
Inside, they were greeted by a woman of dignified presence, Dr. Uriel. She was a woman of age and grace, her every movement calm and precise, exuding both intelligence and compassion. Her welcoming smile immediately put Romos and Cielo at ease.
But Evadne noticed something else, when Dr. Uriel's eyes landed on her, there was the briefest flicker of surprise. Her gaze narrowed, ever so slightly, as if studying something deeper. It lasted only a moment, but Evadne caught it.
"Dr. Lacroix referred your daughter's case to me a few days ago," Dr. Uriel began, gesturing for them to sit in the cozy receiving area of her office. She offered them coffee, which Romos politely declined with a smile. "He also sent me her full diagnostic history, from the age of six up to the most recent episodes."
She folded her hands neatly in her lap and looked at them with reassuring calm.
"Based on what he's shared, your daughter is experiencing what we refer to as recurrent vivid nightmares. These fall under a specific category of sleep disorder known as Parasomnia, a condition that includes abnormal dreams that are often emotionally intense and disturbingly real."
Dr. Uriel's voice was gentle, yet firm. Professional, but not clinical.
"What makes her case unique is the consistency of the dream content. The same dream, repeating almost identically every night. That repetition alone can be mentally and emotionally exhausting, even traumatic."
She paused, letting the weight of her words settle.
"Let me assure you, this isn't unheard of, particularly in individuals with heightened emotional sensitivity, creative minds, or, more critically, those who've experienced a deep psychological event. The catch? The individual may not even consciously remember or recognize that event."
"The mind," she continued, "has a fascinating way of protecting itself. It locks things away when they're too overwhelming, and often, those locked-away fragments find their way into dreams. Especially vivid ones."
Romos and Cielo listened intently, Cielo's hand gently resting on her daughter's knee.
"That's why the dreams feel so real to her. They're emotionally symbolic, even if they don't align with her waking reality."
Dr. Uriel leaned forward slightly, her tone softening.
"I know how painful it is for you, as parents, to watch her struggle. To see her trapped in these cycles when traditional interventions, medication, sleep hygiene, structured therapy, fail to bring real relief."
She paused again, eyes settling on Evadne, who hadn't said a word.
"That's where my approach comes in. Clinical hypnosis."
Before either parent could react, she clarified.
"Unlike what you see in the media, therapeutic hypnosis is not mind control. It doesn't erase memories. It doesn't force behavior. It is a medically backed, evidence-based technique. A safe, guided access point into the subconscious, the place where these repetitive dream patterns are being generated."
Romos furrowed his brow slightly. "And what exactly will it do for her?"
Dr. Uriel nodded, prepared for the question.
"It allows us to revisit these dreams, but not from a position of helplessness. We help the patient view them from a place of strength, of distance. And in time, they often gain control inside the dream, altering it, confronting it, or decoding the emotional message hidden within it."
She looked to Evadne now.
"The goal isn't always to remove the dream… but to change the relationship the mind has with it. That, more than anything, gives the brain the release it needs. Peaceful sleep becomes possible. Emotional stability returns."
"I've treated cases similar to Evadne's, highly symbolic, repetitive dreams, and in each, we saw remarkable improvement. The most important thing? She'll never be forced. She'll never be sedated. She'll be aware of everything."
"I'll walk her through every session," she added, her voice now softer as she addressed Evadne directly. "At your pace. At your comfort. Always with your consent."
Cielo reached for her daughter's hand and gently squeezed it.
Romos spoke, his voice laced with fragile hope. "You really believe this will help her?"
Dr. Uriel smiled, not with arrogance, but with calm, unshakable certainty.
"I do," she said. "And we'll begin the first session today."
She stood up and moved toward the far wall, where a sleek monitor was mounted. With a remote, she powered it on.
"The therapy will take place in the adjoining room," she explained. "Only Evadne and I will be inside. But don't worry, you'll be able to view everything through this screen. It's a one-way stream. You won't hear anything, but you'll see us."
She turned back to the couple. "This setup ensures Evadne's comfort and confidentiality. Sometimes, patients hesitate to speak freely in front of their loved ones, often not out of distrust, but because of guilt, shame, or fear of disappointing them."
'Stop trying to read my mind. Are you trying to give yourself a headache?'
Evadne inhaled sharply.
Her mother immediately noticed. "Are you alright, hon?" Cielo asked in concern. "If you're not ready to start today, we can always come back tomorrow."
'I won't be available until next month. If you want answers from me, today is your best chance,' Dr. Uriel's voice echoed, not aloud, but inside Evadne's head.
Evadne looked at her mother and smiled faintly. "I'm okay, Mommy. Daddy. We're already here, and we have nowhere else to be. I think… it's better if we start now."
Ever since entering the clinic, Evadne had noticed something strange. She could hear her parents' thoughts clearly, but Dr. Uriel's mind was silent. No noise. No static. Nothing. She had tried to focus, to reach into her thoughts… but it was like Uriel was cloaked. Until that moment, when she spoke directly into her head.
It was the first time Evadne had ever met someone who could do that.
Dr. Uriel continued explaining what to expect during the session, especially to Romos and Cielo. "You might see her react physically, trash, flinch, or even cry. That's normal. The first navigation into a recurring dream is always the most difficult."
"But don't worry," she assured. "While I will challenge her boundaries within the dream, I will never push her beyond what she can handle. I promise you that. And after today, she will experience relief, days, hopefully weeks of uninterrupted, peaceful sleep. I stake my license on it."
She handed them a set of consent forms, legal waivers and procedural outlines, and waited as they read and signed. Evadne added her signature last.
When everything was complete, Dr. Uriel gently placed a hand on Evadne's back and led her through the side door into the therapy room.
The moment the door closed, a wave of calm greeted them.
The room was breathtaking. Painted in soft whites and sky blues, it looked like something out of a dream, cloud-like curtains, a faint scent of lavender, and a reclining therapy couch in the center beneath a skylight.
It felt like heaven.
Evadne looked around, unsettled. "Who are you?"
Dr. Uriel tilted her head. "I'm Dr. Uriel."
"I know that," Evadne said, her brows furrowing. "I mean… what are you?"
"I am Dr. Uriel," she repeated, but this time, her voice had a layered tone, one that sent a shiver down Evadne's spine.
The name suddenly clicked.
"Uriel… as in the Angel Uriel?"
Evadne couldn't believe she'd just said that aloud.
Uriel's smile widened, almost fond. "Genius, indeed. You figured it out fast."
Evadne stared at her, mouth slightly parted. "Angels are real?"
"Seriously?" Uriel raised an amused brow. "You, who can hear people's thoughts, and that's what you question?"
And then it happened.
In an instant, her entire being glowed. A radiant light, gentle, but powerful, wrapped around her. Her skin shimmered like porcelain kissed by moonlight, her hair shifted from silver to liquid starlight cascading down her back.
In the span of a breath, the dignified doctor was gone, and standing before Evadne was an ethereal woman of ancient, celestial beauty.
Evadne gasped and glanced toward the ceiling corner where the CCTV camera blinked steadily.
"They can see you," she said urgently, pointing. "My parents… they'll see you like this."
Uriel chuckled softly, her voice like the gentle chime of crystal bells.
"They still see me as the woman you met earlier," she assured. "What they see and what you see… are two different things."
She gestured toward the bed, inviting Evadne to sit.
Evadne did so, her curiosity outweighing the surreal reality around her.
"So… why are you a psychiatrist?" she couldn't help but ask, watching as Uriel moved across the room.
Uriel lit a small candle on a corner table and answered casually, "Well, we angels are immortal. And when we have nothing to do, we make ourselves busy. Do you have any idea how boring forever can be?"
Evadne blinked. "Don't you have a human you're supposed to be watching over?"
Uriel smirked as she lit another candle, the golden flames flickering gently across her ethereal features.
"Are you imagining guardian angels sitting on clouds, watching over humans every second of every day?" she asked. "It doesn't work that way."
Evadne looked her over, not sure if she was comforted or more disturbed.
Uriel finally sat beside her on the bed, the flames casting a golden shimmer across her silver hair.
"Then can you tell me… why am I having those nightmares?" she asked softly. "And why can I hear people's thoughts?"
Uriel folded her hands in her lap, her golden eyes gleaming with ancient knowledge.
"Yes," she said simply. "But first, you need to understand that this world, this reality, is not the only one that exists. There are other realms… other dimensions. When humans die, they move on, to Heaven, to Hell, depending on the weight of their deeds. And after that? They are reincarnated."
Evadne swallowed, listening intently.
"When a soul is reborn, all memories of the previous life are erased. No exceptions. That's how the cycle continues. Clean slate. New beginning." Uriel leaned in slightly. "But… there are rare souls. Fractured ones. Sometimes, even after the memories are wiped, remnants claw their way back."
"You mean… the nightmares?" Evadne's voice was a whisper now.
Uriel nodded. "They aren't just dreams. They're fragments of your first life. Haunting you because something there remains unresolved. Unfinished business. And the mind doesn't know what to do with that, so it buries it in sleep."
"An unfinished business?" Evadne asked, her voice barely a whisper.
Uriel nodded.
"As for your mind-reading ability, that's a bit more complicated. You weren't supposed to reincarnate here. Your soul crossed worlds."
Evadne's brow furrowed. "Crossed… worlds?"
"This world has little to no magic," Uriel explained. "But there are others where magic is strong, woven into the very fabric of life. Your soul came from one of those. And although your memories were erased, the essence of your first life remains… including your magical affinity."
Uriel's voice was calm, but the weight of her words filled the air like thunder cloaked in velvet.
"Cross-world reincarnation isn't rare, but most souls lose everything, memories, power, all of it. But yours… yours is fighting its way back."
"Will I ever be able to control it?" Evadne asked. "The ability… and the nightmares?"
Uriel's lips curled into something between a smile and a frown. "The ability? Yes. That part is easy. Think of it like learning to write. At first, it's messy, scribbles, uncontrolled thoughts. But over time, it gains form, purpose, precision. With focus, meditation, and most importantly, an anchor, you'll learn to harness it."
"Anchor?" Evadne echoed.
"Something… or someone who grounds you. Who reminds you who you are now, not who you used to be."
"And the nightmares?"
Uriel sighed.
"That… depends on you. You're the only one who can decide how far you're willing to go to uncover the truth. The deeper we go, the more you'll see. But I'll warn you now, based on what I've sensed…"
Uriel looked her straight in the eyes.
"Your first life wasn't kind to you."
Evadne's throat went dry.
"Because if it had been," Uriel said gently, "then the memories trying to come back… would've been beautiful dreams, not nightmares."