Lina woke up in tears. She clutched her chest and clawed at her heart. She hated these dreams. Hated seeing the love on his face. Hated seeing the adoration he held for her.
When Lina had entrusted her heart to his hand, she thought he'd clutch it, but he crushed it. Their love crashed and burned, and the remnants of it were ashes that fluttered in the wind and fell into the ocean.
"How much does he remember?" Lina muttered to herself, wiping the tears from her face, angry that she had cried over him again.
No matter how many times she witnessed the dreams, the pain was always there. It was like a knife twisting into her heart, drawing all the blood from her body, and pressing further when she bled to death from the pain.
Lina didn't even have time to properly decipher the dream before she heard a loud scream downstairs. She cringed. The shriek might as well have shattered windows and glass. What the hell?
