Every sense was as crisp and clear as reality. I wasn’t sure how long I’d been in the Hollow, as Jack called it, before entering Mia’s dream. Everything had felt so hazy there, and my head was throbbing in a rhythmic pattern. Nothing made sense. My brain couldn’t sort anything out through this new agony. I cupped my palms over my temples in a futile attempt to ease the pain. The only thing I wanted, the only thing I could think about, was getting some sleep. Mia showed up in her white dress in front of the canvas and picked up her paintbrush—and a jar of red paint. I stared, all thought of sleep vanishing as I climbed quickly to my feet. I’d seen the canvas and paintbrush dozens of times … but the jar of red paint was absolutely new. Mia used to paint all the time. She’d wanted to become an artist. But after watching her parents burn in a house fire along with all her paintings, she hadn’t been able to touch a brush to canvas since.
What do You think about Paranoia (The Night Walkers)?
