Don't Wake Fully
(Mara)
Mara wakes up already confused.
Not sleepy-confused.
Lost-confused.
Like her mind didn't fully return with her body.
For a few seconds, she just lies there.
Staring at the ceiling.
Waiting for her brain to agree with reality.
Elena is missing.
That's the truth.
The police said it.
Her mother cried.
The house went quiet after that.
But something else keeps interrupting that truth.
Something softer.
Something wrong in a different way.
Mara turns her head slowly.
Her phone is beside her.
No messages.
No calls.
No Elena.
Only silence.
Her chest tightens immediately.
Because silence is not new anymore.
It's become normal.
But the dream is still there.
Not fully faded.
Still clinging to her like wet fabric.
Elena was there.
In the dream.
Talking.
Breathing.
Standing too close like she always used to.
Alive in a way reality refuses to allow now.
Mara presses her palm against her forehead.
"No," she whispers.
"That wasn't real."
But her voice doesn't sound certain.
It sounds like it's arguing with itself.
Because in the dream—
Elena wasn't gone.
Elena wasn't missing.
Elena was just… away for a moment.
Like she could come back at any time.
Like nothing was permanently broken.
Mara sits up quickly.
Too quickly.
Her heart reacts before her mind can catch up.
She grabs her phone.
Checks again.
Messages.
Calls.
Everything the same.
Everything empty.
Her throat tightens.
"Stop it," she whispers to herself.
"Stop mixing it up."
But it's already happening.
The dream version of Elena keeps bleeding into her thoughts.
Her voice.
Her presence.
The way she said her name like she was still there.
Mara swings her legs off the bed.
The floor is cold.
Real.
Unforgivingly real.
She walks to the window.
Pulls the curtain slightly open.
Outside is normal.
People moving.
A car passing.
A dog barking somewhere far away.
Life continuing like nothing ended.
But inside her head—
something refuses to align.
Because Elena is missing.
But in her mind—
Elena still exists in a version of reality where nothing has finished breaking yet.
Mara closes the curtain again.
Her hand lingers there for a moment.
"I can't tell anymore," she admits quietly.
Not to anyone.
Just to the room.
And for a second—
just a second—
she almost wishes she was still dreaming.
Because in the dream…
Elena is still around.
Even if it's not real.
Even if it's worse in other ways.
At least she is there.
Mara exhales shakily.
Grabs her phone again.
Stares at it.
No calls.
No messages.
No Elena.
And slowly, painfully, she realizes:
the dream isn't comforting anymore.
It's becoming a place she might not be able to leave fully.
Because even though Elena is gone in reality
Mara is starting to depend on the version of her that still exists when she sleeps.