PROLOGUE
What is your most vivid memory? What is your most remembered dream? For me, the answer is the same. Because my most vivid memory is a dream, or at least, it could be called a dream. When I lie in my bed at night, my mind doesn’t just make up some random scene, I am literally transformed into another world.
The dreams began when I turned 17. The first time it happened, I was sure it was simply a normal dream, but after a few nights of the same experience, I turned to my mother, who knew immediately what was going on.
In my dream, I would always wake up in a dungeon-like place. The walls and floor were a simple brick and there was no bed: just the cold floor below her. The only door was a thick steel one that was always locked. On the wall behind me were two chains with cuffs on them, seemingly waiting to be used.
“Abby, we are going to go to your grandmother’s, she will be able to explain what is happening to you, and maybe we will find a way to stop it this time,” I hear my mother tell me as she drags me out of the house with desperate hope that what she said is true.
“I don’t understand, mom, this isn’t just some nightmare is it?”
“I’m afraid not, Abby, but I will let your grandmother explain. But all I can tell you is to be careful, because whatever happens to you in that place, will also happen here. Any injuries will also affect you here. And if you die there, you won’t wake up here ever again.”
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