Ignorance is Bliss

I'm still getting things in order on my new computer and iTunes doesn't work right on it, so I'm sorry for the filler chapter.

Magic was altering my dream, of that much I know for certain, but where is that magic coming from and why can't I seem to drag myself into full consciousness? Sensations are all I have right now, but the real ones are mixed in with the ones from my dream, so I'm not sure how to tell the two apart. In my dream, I'm walking along a beach, the sand warm under my bare feet and the waves soothing, spray hits me every now and then, the cool moisture making me shiver. Suddenly the sand goes cold and hard for an instant, the spray a little too cold for a hot day like this. Am I outside? It would explain the differing sensations, cold asphalt underfoot and rain pelting down on me.

But before I can question in for too long, the sensations change again back to warmth. I breathe in deeply, honestly expecting to smell the ocean, but instead I smell rain. I look up at the clouds, taking in the pale blue sky and lazy clouds floating past. It's not humid and the air isn't charged with electricity, no sign of an approaching storm, so why the strange smell? The breeze picks up, driving away the scent of rain and replacing it with the taste of salt. I laugh, spinning in the sand with my arms outstretched. I haven't been this relaxed in so long, so why is my stomach twisting like I have to do something I dread? The magic hits me again, the strength of it almost as strong as the magic leaking from the hourglass on Neverland. Suddenly dizzy, I collapse in the sand, almost shocked when I hit it and it's wet. This distance away from the water, it should still be mostly dry.

Wake up, a voice from inside me whispers, wake up and fight back. I shake the thought away, not wanting to leave when it's so nice here. Where would I go anyway? Back to Storybrooke where people are always expecting others to fix their mistakes? Where the only parents I have fantasize about killing each other in creative ways every single day? No thank you, I'll stay right here where I'm safe. I cross my arms and raise y head stubbornly, a gesture I've seen Dad do on numerous occasions. The skies overhead grow darker, the sun hiding behind a lead-colored cloud, heavy with rain and threatening to burst. Things were changing again, my reality clashing with my dream. "No," I whimper, standing up, feeling suddenly angry. "No, I'm not waking up! I'm safe here!" A rumble of thunder is the only sound now besides the howling of the wind as it picks up.

And then the voices started, wanted and unwanted at the same time, my dream shifting even more to include wet grass beneath my feet, but the ocean didn't vanish. I still feel its spray hitting me. "No," I hear Papa say in disappointment, though I can't see him anywhere.

"Well, I'm guessing she didn't go through with it," I hear Dad say now with a chuckle. "So sorry." His tone is laced with sarcasm, suggesting he's happy about something. "Oh, but I do love the look of loss on your face." He laughs, the sound echoing in the air around me like a tornado siren warning people to get to safety. Something's happening, something I can't make out because of the magic holding me in the dream.

"I may not have the Savior, Pirate, but I assure you, today won't be a complete loss. I need to fill that hat with power, yes. But that was only part of the equation. Because I need something else, a secret ingredient, one I didn't know about until an associate clued me in." I cover my ears, desperately trying to drown everything out as my subconscious self sensed I wouldn't want to hear this, but the voices continued louder than ever. "A heart."

"Well, if you need my help procuring it, know the only help I give you is with your demise. I'll be damned if I allow you to influence my child any longer."

"Oh, you're gonna help me, all right. You see, this spell is gonna finally separate me from the dagger so it no longer hold power over me. But to cast it I need the heart of someone special, someone who knew me before the dagger... Before I was the Dark One. Unfortunately, everyone who fits that description is already dead or out of my reach, but one remains."

"No. No!"

"Yes." No, please, I don't want to hear this! Please just make it stop! Thunder booms again, the tears on my face blending in with rain as it begins to pour down on me. "As luck would have it, Dearie, you're my oldest friend." The sickening squish sound reverberates on the beach, a sound I knew from ages ago when someone would try to cheat Papa out of their deal... A sound associated with someone getting the heart torn out of their chest. The worst part is the scream that accompanied it, my father's pained shout making my own heart skip a beat.

"Get on with it, then. Just do it."

"Oh no, I promised you we'd have some fun first. You're gonna do everything I say because you're my puppet now. You're gonna find another way to fill that hat with the power it needs. And then? Then I'll kill you." I begin to run, unsure of which direction I was going in until I find myself soaring through the air until the hard ground rises up to meet me, my nightgown soaked through with mud and rainwater, but still the dream refused to release me completely. "Morgan?"

"Vee!"And then the beach is calm again, no more strange voices and the feeling of panic fading away into oblivion. Why would I need to worry on a beautiful day like this?