1:19 A.M.

It was 1:17 a.m. I was in the middle of a dream when the sudden feeling of falling woke me with a jolt. My heart pounded—like snapping out of sleep paralysis after struggling for air. Tussling a bit, I slowly fell into a daze.

I stood by a lake, staring out across the water. The shoreline was empty. The water stretched out like dark glass. The smell of damp earth and lake water hung in the air. The moon bled through thick clouds, its reflection trembling faintly across the surface. The night was cold. No sound. A gentle breeze blew my hair as I walked around the edge of the lake. Something called out from the trees where the trail bent out of sight. A distant voice, that of a woman, calling me into the shadows. It was very faint, I could not make out what the voice was saying. With each step, the air got colder and the darkness began to engulf my being.

I felt my body fall. Trying to grab a hold of something, I swung my arms out. The dream fell apart again. 1:19 a.m. the clock read. I was only asleep for a couple minutes. The door was cracked. I never sleep with my door cracked. I stared at the darkness behind it. Something pressed down on my chest. I tried to move my arms. They didn't move. My breathing slowed. My eyelids grew heavy. Then the room slipped away.

The path of towering trees led me towards a black abyss. Trees were swaying. The wind pushed them with violent gales. Leaves rustled across the dark path. The voice returned. It was calling me. Something knew that I was here. I followed the voice with my eyes. The trees were too straight. Too evenly spaced. Like they had been placed there intentionally. Only blackness was visible far into the distance.

“Why haven't you talked to me?” the voice said.

I couldn't move. I tried to yell. No words came out. The darkness behind the door felt occupied. A force pushed my neck down. I couldn't lift my head. I snapped out of it. Gasping for air, I propped myself up with my arms. 1:19 a.m. The second hand wasn't moving. I stared at it for a moment, waiting for the second hand to move. It didn't. I blinked and looked again. The minute hand remained perfectly still. My door was now propped up against the wall behind it. The wind howling rattled the window blinds. My breath was fogging in front of me. My skin tightened. Shivers crept down my body. I stared at the hallway beyond the door. The darkness beyond it seemed longer than before. The wind rattled the blinds again. But the sound changed. It wasn't the blinds anymore. It sounded like leaves. The shadows stretched along the floor. The doorway looked longer. Like a path along trees. Leaves scraped across the ground. The smell of the lake brought a familiar feeling.

Something was wrong. I had been here before. The same minute. The same voice called out again.

“Why haven't you talked to me?”

This time it was much closer. It felt as if the voice was standing right in front of me.

“Come into the lake.”

The voice began to fade. It was drifting deeper. I followed. The wind began to roar. Trees were moving violently. The voice grew stronger with each step.

“Come on. Get in.”

Past the tunnel of trees, there was a clearing. The lake brushed softly against the shore. The wind relaxed. The moon was full. It was peeking from behind the clouds. Everything fell silent. There was a bundle of leaves scattered, floating on the surface of the lake. An object glistened beneath the leaves. I took a few steps into the water. It was freezing. Ripples spread across the surface, breaking the reflection of the moon. I reached into the lake. My hand closed around something cold. I pulled it from the water. Leaves clung to the object as it broke the surface. The moon's light revealed a necklace. One I hadn't seen in years. My mother’s necklace. The one she never took off. The water moved. Something pulled at my legs. I slipped beneath the surface—

I jolted awake. I struggled to catch my breath. My hand felt cold. It was wet. The wind picked up and rushed into my room. The blinds rattled once again. I stepped on something wet as I swung my feet to the ground. I looked down. A mud-stained leaf. I pushed myself to my feet and stepped toward the bedroom door. Another leaf rested on the floor in front of me. Then another. They were leading out of the bedroom.

Then the wind stopped. Everything fell silent. Something was making the air around me cold. My breathing sounded loud in a quiet house. The floor creaked as I crept into the hallway. Another leaf at my feet. A faint light glowed around the corner.

I turned the corner and saw the light in the living room. Leaves were lined up in a path towards the wall, gathering in a small pile at the edge. I looked up. The faint light shimmered across the glass of a picture frame. It was a photograph of my mother holding me as a baby. We were standing by a lake, both smiling. Around her neck hung a necklace. I had seen that necklace my entire childhood. It rested against her collar whenever she held me, whenever she laughed, whenever she tucked me into bed. The same necklace from the dream.

Tears rushed down my cheeks. My throat began to tighten. My legs gave out and I sank to the floor, sobbing.

After a while, the house went silent. I wiped my eyes and looked around the quiet, dimly lit room. I glanced towards the clock in the hallway. The silence in the house no longer felt heavy around me. The numbers changed.

1:20 a.m.