Amilia stared at her bed, anxiously biting her lip as her gaze raked over the neatly folded blankets and fluffed pillows. She had been sure to close the door behind her; she didn’t want her mother to know how hard this was for her. Because it shouldn’t have been. She should have just been able to crawl into bed and drift away into her sleep. But she couldn’t.

Amilia took a deep breath. She couldn’t do this every night, stand with her back pressed to the cool, white wood of her door, and wait for her strength to come back. She had to just suck it up and get into bed. She had to. Amilia walked forward slowly, relishing each second she wasn’t in that damn bed. Every second was precious until she slipped under the covers. Then, every second she didn’t close her eyes was a miracle. Because as soon as she closed her eyes, it would come back. It would come and it wouldn’t leave until the morning. And then morning was when nobody believed her.
Amilia felt herself drifting away and realized too late to do anything about it. She was already gone, swept away into the darkness of sleep. Except it wasn’t really sleep. Not for her. Thing was, Amilia was somehow conscious every second that her body was asleep. She could feel her relaxed limbs, could even feel the light kiss of her sheets of her bare skin, but she wasn’t really awake. When she had described the sensation to her mother, her friends, even the eventual psychologist she was assigned to, they all said the same thing: she just had an overactive imagination. Her mind just wasn’t ready to shut off when her body was. It made her “very special” and she had many opportunities to explore how that felt.
But she didn’t want to explore. She hated it with every fiber of her being. She just wanted to actually sleep tonight. But for whatever reason, for whatever deity or God up there had chosen, she wasn’t allowed to sleep. And even worse, she was allowed to dream.
Amilia saw it up ahead, sort of like a square of light, or an open doorway. Curiosity won every time and she walked towards it. After all, it was never the same dream. This time when she walked out, she actually recognized the place. Her doctor had told her that the mind never really forgets a place and sometimes that ends up in your dreams. And this place… This was a place where she had been with her parents. On a trip when she was very little. When she could still sleep through the night.
She stood on a sort of outcropping over the ocean, on a rough cliff, balanced precariously on the dark, rough rocks that reminded her of volcanic formations. Dried lava trying to remember what it felt like to blaze. She was standing in a sort of sheltered alcove, just outside a small, low cave. She twisted her head back, and saw the cliff stretching up far above her, an uneven, vertical scape. Not too far below was the ocean, angrily smashing against the rocks like it held a grudge. It frothed, the bubbles surging and disappearing, washing in and out in a mesmerizing pattern. The wind tossed Amilia’s hair around her head, whipping the caramel locks across her cheeks and nose. She carefully tucked it down around her ears, the sharp smell of salt on the wind making her eyes water. Far out in the distance, she could see a storm raging, could see the dark gray mist that signified a heavy rain was moving in her direction.
“It’ll be here soon. Are you going to stick around to see?”
Amilia jumped and almost accidentally threw herself off the cliff. A strong hand grabbed her forearm and pulled her back to safety. She stumbled a couple of steps forward, ducking her head to avoid smacking it on the edge of the roof of the cave. She looked up and saw a boy, about her age, 14, light blond hair blowing around his forehead, his bangs occasionally completely obscuring his blue eyes. He looked curious more than anything, head tilted to the side, light smile gracing his lips.
In an attempt to steady herself, Amilia placed a hand on the rough rock edge of the cave ceiling where the alcove merged with the cliff-face. She stared at the boy, who blinked at her, light eyes sharp with interest. “Who... Who are you?” She manage to ask, trying, and failing, to keep her voice steady.

“Luke Evenas,” the boy, Luke, smiled and extended his hand “You?”
“Amilia Cros,” she said carefully, suspiciously reaching for his hand. When his skin met hers, it was soft and warm and… real. “You’re.... You’re really here, aren’t you?”
“In the flesh,” Luke said brightly, then paused and shrugged. “Well, I guess not really in the flesh, but, you know… Close enough.” He smiled and Amilia was surprised to find that she smiled back. It wasn’t often that a girl who claimed she could never fall asleep made a new friend.
“What… How did you find your way into my dream?” She asked carefully, still not totally trusting this guy, and not sure she wanted to accidently spill her secret if this wasn’t what she thought it was.
“Your dream?” Luke scoffed playfully. “I was under the assumption that this was my dream, but I suppose we’re sharing now, huh?”
“Have you ever been here before?” She asked, looking back towards the ocean. “My psyc- my doctor told me that sometimes the mind remembers places from long ago. Places you can’t remember during the day.”
“I have.” Luke said, his tone suddenly darker. “A long, long time ago.”
Amilia turned back towards him. Luke’s light expression was now serious and she could see anger and pain pushing beneath the surface. The stormy ocean reflected back in his eyes.
“What happened here? Something with your family? Your brother… He jumped here...” Amilia froze, shaking her head as she came out of the sort-of trance, and Luke snapped his head around, staring at her in shock.
“How did you know that?” Luke demanded, taking a step forward, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. His expression had gone from pondering to guarded in a split second.
“I don’t know…” Amilia put her hand on her forehead. “I could just… tell.”
“You… You came here long ago too,” Luke said, his gaze going unfocused. “Your grandparents… This was the last place you saw them before the accident.” He blinked and his eyes widened at her falling expression. He took a step forward, and reached forward, gently placing his hand on her shoulder before letting it slide down to her hand, and intertwining their fingers together. “I’m- I’m sorry, I just… I just looked to see why… we both have dark memories from here… Maybe we were drawn together because of that.”
“Crappy reason for a first meeting,” Amilia said forlornly, and Luke offered her hand a gentle comforting squeeze.
“I’m sorry… About your grandparents, Amilia.”
“I’m sorry about your brother.” Amilia still had her expression turned to the foaming sea, but she returned the squeeze.
Luke shifted and stood next to her, keeping their hands together.
“Sometimes… Sometimes I just want to wake up.” Amilia said, looking over at Luke.
He smiled softly at her. “You can’t wake up. This is not a dream.” He turned and took Amilia’s other hand. “It’s a memory now.”
And they waited for the storm to come and meet them.