Faery: A Tale of Dreams - Prologue

         Charlie's brows knit together as he peered through the doorway, watching his daughter in the throes of another tormented sleep. Familiar with the nightmare as he was, he could almost see the dream as if it broadcast onto the walls of her pink room. Bambi's long, blonde hair was plastered to her forehead amidst droplets of sweat as she tossed and turned. Brine slid down her cheeks in small trails, creating a network of channels and rivulets. Her legs thrashed as she ran away from the hordes of strange creatures - beasts with leering eyes and hollow backs, spines jutting from their skulls and long claws, grasping for purchase on her sweaty flesh. He'd heard the details so many times. He faintly heard the clang of steel on steel and a high, cold laugh that ripped through the room and reverberated against the ceiling.

         He shook his head. I must be dreaming, too, he told himself.

         "What are we gonna do about this?" he whispered.

         He strode across the plush green carpet to gently shake Bambi awake. He smoothed the hair stuck to her face and kissed her cheeks. As he cradled her in his arms, he thought the sweet stench of blood rose to his nostrils. Purely his imagination, of course, he reasoned - a product of her recurring nightmare. For the last year or so she had dealt with similar dreams. He and his wife were often woken in the night by their sobbing daughter at the foot of their bed. They had tried everything, but the nightmare never left.

         Her bloodshot emerald eyes flashed open. They shone with fear, anxiety beyond a five-year-old's understanding.

         "Bam-bam? Honey? It's just a dream." He smoothed her hair.

         "But, Daddy, it's not. They're everywhere." Her wide eyes looked fearfully around the room.

         Charlie turned his head to scan the room. All he saw at first were easter-egg colors, fluffy pillows and scattered dolls in prom dresses. "No, sweetie. It's just us here." Even as he said this and calmed his terrified daughter, he felt a sense of unease. He told himself the things flitting in and out of his vision were tricks of the light. "Yeah, baby. It's just us."

*    *    *

         Seven years later, Bambi's room had started to mature. The pastel room had taken on a more celestial theme with dark blue walls. The fuzzy pillows and blanket were now a satin comforter set with elegant suns and moons. The only hint that a twelve-year old resided in that room were the glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling and the dolls on shelves lining the wall that she couldn't bear to get rid of just then.

         One thing hadn't changed - the dreams. However, she no longer ran into her parent's room in the middle of the night crying. She handled them. Some of them weren't scary, either - just, weird.

         Evidence of her personal anguish lined the walls in the form of bizarre drawings. She often ran her fingers over the thick colored pencil lines, trying to make sense of these creatures. Some looked mostly human. The others, though - well, she must have seen them somewhere, in a movie or book, maybe. That was the only explanation she had. She tried to convince herself that's all they really were - dreams. Sometimes, though, in the dark of night when she swore she saw strange creatures in her room, or when she talked to things that couldn't possibly be there, she wondered.

         Then she decided she was just crazy.

*    *    *

         Bambi's life quickly fell apart after that. Within the next year, her parents went through an abrupt and nasty divorce. She never understood why. She only knew of the screaming, fighting, midnight runs to the bar, mom coming home twelve hours after she left to get a "manicure".

         Then one day, Bambi came home to find her mother's disgusting new boyfriend sitting at their dining room table.

         "Bam-bam? This is James, honey. You be nice to him, okay? He's going to be around for a while."

         James looked Bambi up and down. A slow smile spread across his face. A timer went off in the kitchen.

         "Oh, that must be the chicken. I'll be right back." Cynthia bustled away into the kitchen.

         "Hey, beautiful," said James.

         Bambi strolled past him to go into her bedroom. He pinched her rear as she walked away. She suppressed a shudder and took the stairs to her room two at a time.

*    *    *

         The leaves on the trees outside had turned from green to red and a foggy mist pervaded the air, seeping in through Bambi's open bedroom window. Charlie didn't come around much anymore, but she held out hope that one day he'd come home, sweep her into his arms and take her away from her eccentric mother and James' torture. One short phone call quashed that hope as effectively as the coming winter killed the warmth.

         "Baby, I'm sorry. I'm leaving."

         "But where?"

         "I can't tell you. I'm sorry. I just can't do this anymore."

         "Daddy - please, please don't - " Tears ran down her cheeks.

         "Have I ever lied to you?"

         "No," she admitted.

         "Trust me. It's for the best. I just wanted to say goodbye and I love you."

         "If you loved me, you wouldn't leave me with them!"

         "I'm so sorry." He sighed. She heard his heart break right along with hers. "I hope you never understand." She heard a click as he hung up.

         She knelt down by her bed, gripping a handful of bed covers and sobbed uncontrollably. She screamed at the familiar shadows in the corners of her vision.

         "This is all your fault!"

         She grabbed a pillow from her bed and threw it. A blur of golden suns flew at a shadow she could have sworn was there a minute ago, but the soft satin collided with the wall and nothing else.