Tell Me My Name by Mary Fan

Author:Mary Fan
Language: eng
Format: epub

Soft green grass covers the ground, cool against my toes. The air is so warm, I can taste the freshness of spring on the breeze. There is joy here. And serenity. I don’t know where I am, but right now, it doesn’t matter. All I know is that this is a place where I’m safe. In fact, it might be my favorite place in the world. Inhaling deeply, I take a second to savor the feeling of contentment that surrounds me.

Having allowed myself a moment, I bring my focus back to my surroundings, to see where I actually am.

I find myself standing in a small grove. The twisting branches and billowing leaves of tall trees nearly block the blue sky. But these are no ordinary trees. The branches of each one reach toward those of another, intertwining like they’re holding hands. At first I think the limbs must be very thick, but as I look closer, I notice that what I took to be heavy branches are actually several small ones, each about the width of my finger, weaving together into intricate braids of brown and gray.

Sitting atop them is an array of hardcover books, with gilt lettering down their spines. That’s odd – why are there books sitting outside instead of in a library where they belong? And they don’t look like they’ve been left out by accident, since there are so many of them neatly lined up.

I tilt my head and try to read the titles, but the letters blur and jumble before my eyes, denying me their meaning. What is this place? It feels familiar, like I’ve been here many times before, but I can’t recall why.

An uncanny sensation strikes my mind, and I realize that this too is a dream.

Or could it be more?

Something significant must lie between the pages of those books, or I don’t think I’d be here. Their words must carry some importance, and I reach toward one, intending to find out what.

Suddenly a wave of mist assaults my vision, and the air crackles with heat as the silver haze I saw in the last dream reaches toward me, searing my skin with its invisible touch. Knowing I have to escape, I turn and run as fast as I can, but the mist chases me, swirling around the trees and climbing over the branches.

Then a thought strikes me: The mist is trying to keep me away from those books. Whatever knowledge they carry in their pages, someone doesn’t want me to see it. Which makes it all the more important that I do.

I stop running. The unbearably hot mist engulfs me, but I grit my teeth against the pain. I take a deep breath, which turns out to be a great mistake, for the scorching air fills my lungs, burning me from the inside out. My agony is so great that I want to curl into a ball and weep.

But I can’t. I have to find out what’s in those books. Something in

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