29 Apr 2026
Dream
The Vanishing Friend
A childhood friend and I had the rare chance to reunite for a vacation—just the two of us. When we arrived at our destination, a white wooden bridge stood between us and the cozy house we’d booked. We chatted happily as we crossed, the excitement of our trip filling the air. But then, in an instant, I glanced to my right, turned back to her—and she was gone. Panic surged through me. I sprinted toward the house, shouting her name, my voice echoing in the stillness. Just as suddenly, she reappeared beside me, as if she’d never left. “I was right here the whole time,” she said, her voice calm. I wanted to believe her, but the fear lingered. Not wanting to ruin our trip, I forced myself to brush it off.
The next morning, we ventured into the lush forest surrounding the house. The sunlight filtered through the trees as we strolled, catching up on each other’s lives and laughing at old memories. Then, it happened again. I glanced away for a second, and when I looked back—she was gone. The forest, once vibrant and inviting, darkened as if swallowed by shadow. I called out, my voice raw with fear, searching desperately for any sign of her. But she had vanished into thin air, leaving only the oppressive silence of the woods.
This dream, or something like it, haunted me whenever we fought. The setting changed, but the theme was always the same: a place, a glimpse, and then—she was gone.
