THE WOMAN IN THE DREAM

Amara was running again. She didn't know where she was going, only that she had to keep moving. Her bare feet slapped against the cold marble floor as she hurried through a corridor that seemed to stretch endlessly before her. Amara was running again. She didn't know where she was going, only that she had to keep moving. Her bare feet slapped against the cold marble floor as she hurried through a corridor that seemed to stretch endlessly before her. 



The walls were unfamiliar, yet somehow she knew every turn. She knew the painting hanging crookedly on the left wall. The walls were unfamiliar, yet somehow she knew every turn. She knew the painting hanging crookedly on the left wall. 



She knew the tall grandfather clock standing at the end of the passage. She even knew that the light above her would flicker three times before going completely dark. She knew the tall grandfather clock standing at the end of the passage. She even knew that the light above her would flicker three times before going completely dark. 



One. Two. Three. The bulb went out.One. Two. Three. The bulb went out.



Darkness swallowed the corridor, leaving only the sound of her own frightened breaths. Somewhere ahead of her, a woman was crying. It wasn't ordinary crying. It was the kind of crying that came from someone who had been begging for help for far too long. Darkness swallowed the corridor, leaving only the sound of her own frightened breaths. Somewhere ahead of her, a woman was crying. It wasn't ordinary crying. It was the kind of crying that came from someone who had been begging for help for far too long.



Amara wanted to turn around, but her legs refused to move. Then she heard footsteps behind her. Slow. Heavy. Getting closer. She didn't need to look back to know who it was. Her father's footsteps.  Amara wanted to turn around, but her legs refused to move. Then she heard footsteps behind her. Slow. Heavy. Getting closer. She didn't need to look back to know who it was. Her father's footsteps. 



Her heart began pounding. "Daddy?" she whispered, but the darkness gave her no answer. The footsteps stopped. For a moment, everything was silent. Then a hand appeared from behind her and grabbed her wrist.Her heart began pounding. "Daddy?" she whispered, but the darkness gave her no answer. The footsteps stopped. For a moment, everything was silent. Then a hand appeared from behind her and grabbed her wrist.



Amara screamed and tried to pull away, but the hand was too strong. She was dragged backward, her feet sliding helplessly across the floor. Amara screamed and tried to pull away, but the hand was too strong. She was dragged backward, her feet sliding helplessly across the floor. 



She twisted around, desperately trying to see the person's face, but the darkness seemed to hide it from her. Then a door appeared. It was the same door she had seen every time she had this dream, a tall wooden door with a brass handle and deep scratches running across its surface. Her father pulled the door open. She twisted around, desperately trying to see the person's face, but the darkness seemed to hide it from her. Then a door appeared. It was the same door she had seen every time she had this dream, a tall wooden door with a brass handle and deep scratches running across its surface. Her father pulled the door open. 



A woman was inside. She was sitting on the floor, trembling. Her clothes were old and dusty, and her wrists were restrained. Amara couldn't see her face properly because her hair covered it. "Please," the woman begged. Her voice cracked. A woman was inside. She was sitting on the floor, trembling. Her clothes were old and dusty, and her wrists were restrained. Amara couldn't see her face properly because her hair covered it. "Please," the woman begged. Her voice cracked. 



"Please don't leave me here." Amara stared at her. Something about that voice felt familiar. So familiar that it hurt. "Daddy, who is she?" Amara asked. Her father didn't answer. He stepped into the room and grabbed the woman by the arm. "Please don't leave me here." Amara stared at her. Something about that voice felt familiar. So familiar that it hurt. "Daddy, who is she?" Amara asked. Her father didn't answer. He stepped into the room and grabbed the woman by the arm. 



The woman screamed. Amara tried to move toward her, but suddenly she couldn't. Her body felt frozen. "Daddy!" she shouted. "Stop!" He turned toward Amara.The woman screamed. Amara tried to move toward her, but suddenly she couldn't. Her body felt frozen. "Daddy!" she shouted. "Stop!" He turned toward Amara.



His face was expressionless. Not angry. Not afraid. Just cold. Then the woman looked up. His face was expressionless. Not angry. Not afraid. Just cold. Then the woman looked up.



Amara finally saw her face.Amara finally saw her face.



She woke up screaming.She woke up screaming.



Her eyes flew open, and she sat upright in bed, breathing hard. For several seconds she didn't know where she was. Her eyes flew open, and she sat upright in bed, breathing hard. For several seconds she didn't know where she was. 



Her bedroom was dark except for the faint orange glow of the streetlights filtering through the curtains. Her bedsheets were twisted around her legs, and her heart was beating so violently that she pressed a hand against her chest.Her bedroom was dark except for the faint orange glow of the streetlights filtering through the curtains. Her bedsheets were twisted around her legs, and her heart was beating so violently that she pressed a hand against her chest.



She looked toward the bedroom door. It was closed. Her wardrobe stood exactly where it always stood.  She looked toward the bedroom door. It was closed. Her wardrobe stood exactly where it always stood. 



Her study table was beneath the window, her schoolbooks stacked neatly on one side, and the small framed photograph of her parents sat beside her lamp. Everything was normal.Her study table was beneath the window, her schoolbooks stacked neatly on one side, and the small framed photograph of her parents sat beside her lamp. Everything was normal.



Everything was safe.  Everything was safe. 



Yet she couldn't shake the feeling that the woman from the dream was still somewhere nearby. Amara swallowed and glanced at the clock on her bedside table. 3:17 a.m. Again. It was always around the same time. She couldn't remember when the nightmares had started.Yet she couldn't shake the feeling that the woman from the dream was still somewhere nearby. Amara swallowed and glanced at the clock on her bedside table. 3:17 a.m. Again. It was always around the same time. She couldn't remember when the nightmares had started.



Her mother had once told her that she had been a restless sleeper as a child, often waking up crying and calling for someone named "Mama."  Her mother had once told her that she had been a restless sleeper as a child, often waking up crying and calling for someone named "Mama." 



Amara had never understood that. Her mother had always been there. At least, as far as she knew. She had never had any reason to question it. Amara had never understood that. Her mother had always been there. At least, as far as she knew. She had never had any reason to question it. 



She was sixteen years old, and for sixteen years, Esther had been the woman she called Mama. Victor had been Daddy. Their house in Lagos had always been home. Their photographs filled the walls. She was sixteen years old, and for sixteen years, Esther had been the woman she called Mama. Victor had been Daddy. Their house in Lagos had always been home. Their photographs filled the walls. 



Their voices filled the rooms. Their lives seemed ordinary. So why did the same strange dream keep returning?Their voices filled the rooms. Their lives seemed ordinary. So why did the same strange dream keep returning?



She pushed the sheets away and climbed out of bed. Her feet touched the cold floor, sending a shiver through her body. She walked toward the window and pulled the curtain aside. She pushed the sheets away and climbed out of bed. Her feet touched the cold floor, sending a shiver through her body. She walked toward the window and pulled the curtain aside. 



Lagos was still awake outside. A few cars moved along the distant road, their headlights cutting through the darkness. Somewhere nearby, a generator hummed. A dog barked once and then fell silent. Lagos was still awake outside. A few cars moved along the distant road, their headlights cutting through the darkness. Somewhere nearby, a generator hummed. A dog barked once and then fell silent. 



Amara rested her forehead against the glass. She tried to remember the woman's face. Every time she woke, the image disappeared within minutes, as though someone were wiping it from her mind. Amara rested her forehead against the glass. She tried to remember the woman's face. Every time she woke, the image disappeared within minutes, as though someone were wiping it from her mind. 



But tonight was different. She could still remember the woman's eyes. They had looked frightened. Desperate. Almost pleading. And there had been something else in them—something Amara couldn't explain. But tonight was different. She could still remember the woman's eyes. They had looked frightened. Desperate. Almost pleading. And there had been something else in them—something Amara couldn't explain. 



Recognition. Recognition. 



As though the woman had known her. As though she had been waiting for her. Amara stepped away from the window. "It's just a dream," she whispered. "Just a stupid dream." She repeated the words, hoping they would become true if she said them enough times.As though the woman had known her. As though she had been waiting for her. Amara stepped away from the window. "It's just a dream," she whispered. "Just a stupid dream." She repeated the words, hoping they would become true if she said them enough times.



A soft sound came from outside her bedroom.A soft sound came from outside her bedroom.



Amara froze.Amara froze.



It sounded like footsteps.It sounded like footsteps.



She turned toward the door.She turned toward the door.



One step.One step.



Then another.Then another.



Her heart began racing again. Someone was walking down the hallway. She listened carefully. The footsteps stopped directly outside her room. Amara held her breath. The handle moved slightly.Her heart began racing again. Someone was walking down the hallway. She listened carefully. The footsteps stopped directly outside her room. Amara held her breath. The handle moved slightly.



Then there was silence.Then there was silence.



She waited.She waited.



Nothing happened.Nothing happened.



Slowly, she walked toward the door and opened it.Slowly, she walked toward the door and opened it.



The hallway was empty.The hallway was empty.



She looked left.She looked left.



Nothing.Nothing.



She looked right.She looked right.



Nothing.Nothing.



Amara stood there for a few seconds, listening to the silence. Eventually, she shook her head and closed the door.Amara stood there for a few seconds, listening to the silence. Eventually, she shook her head and closed the door.



She returned to her bed and pulled the sheets over herself, but sleep refused to come. She kept thinking about the woman. About the way she had cried. About the way she had looked at her. About the strange certainty that she had seen those eyes somewhere before. She returned to her bed and pulled the sheets over herself, but sleep refused to come. She kept thinking about the woman. About the way she had cried. About the way she had looked at her. About the strange certainty that she had seen those eyes somewhere before.



Eventually, exhaustion began to take over.Eventually, exhaustion began to take over.



Amara closed her eyes.Amara closed her eyes.



And just before sleep claimed her again, she heard the woman's voice whisper from somewhere inside the darkness.And just before sleep claimed her again, she heard the woman's voice whisper from somewhere inside the darkness.



"Amara...""Amara..."