The Dream

The Dream

The dream was so real that when I woke up I still thought I was in the castle. As I lay there, eyes closed, I started planning my day, but then the dream started unraveling. Today I'll go... where? Yet parts of the dream stayed, parts so vivid, I never forgot them.

Years later, we were on a family vacation, my father brought us to Switzerland because his firm had business there and he had made the trip several times. He’d loved it, so thinking we needed some “family togetherness,” before I got too old for it, he brought us there. As soon as I saw the hotel I remembered the dream. It was like coming home.

Once we checked in I made my escape to “check things out.” I found I knew every nook and cranny, beyond what had been changed to make it a hotel. Eventually I sought out the secret stairway, still there, all dusty and dark now. Obviously no one had been there in years. I really didn’t know how long ago it had been, another lifetime. At the top, I hesitated at the door, would my things still be there?

Finally, I went in. It was a small room, storage. The old things were antiques now, but they were not what I was looking for. I went to the corner, a shelf with a candle holder, and a diary. My diary.

I tucked the diary into my pocket and went to tell the management about the hidden stair. I had to tell a few lies, “no, I hadn’t touched anything.” I knew everything that was in that room, I didn’t care. I just wanted my diary, to know who I had been, so I could know my story. This is the beginning.