Again, once again and again. That dream again, the same August summer hitting your neighborhood, that same melodious sound of the birds announcing a new day. It would be a new one if it weren't for the fact that this day happened more than eight years ago, 2003, the last time you ever felt like you were a happy girl, like a girl who lives in her absurd world of princesses and fairies.

Why did it have to be like this every night? Did you do something so bad to receive such a cruel punishment? What do you regret after crying every night for him? It's true, he. He's probably making breakfast, like every time this repeats itself, in a loop that not even you can understand. Your mind became, with the passage of time, your worst enemy and the one who has ever hurt you the most. At this point you really felt like none of this was an imagination, it felt like a nightmare in raw winter fever.

You went down the stairs of your house, it's true, your parents had sold that house, but the paintings, the curtains, the decorations and the fresh paint on the fence, it was as if you never left there. But not only you, but also your older brother, Christopher.

"Ah, look who's awake, good morning, sleeping beauty." He said, that smile that illuminated more than the sun's rays coming through the kitchen window. Not even the sun outside seemed real, everything looked so colorful that it wasn't true, you knew this wasn't possible. "Today I wanted to surprise you, I made your favorite breakfast, mom and dad went shopping early, so..." why is he still here? why does he keep tormenting you? why did he keep pretending that he was in your consciousness as a living being when he was no longer here?

"Let's come here, little one." He urged you, but you didn't want to do it, whenever you got close, you woke up, you didn't want to lose sight of him and wait another night to see him. It was a cycle, you had to do it, but as soon as you did it, when you sat down in the chair and you put your hands on the table... you were still there.