My Little Dreaming Girl | Silvana Milen | Short Story

My Little Dreaming Girl is a poetically written prose that distilled the rarity in wild imagination—unnaturally written, but willing to capture.

My Little Dreaming Girl is a poetically written prose that distilled the rarity in wild imagination—unnaturally written, but willing to capture the story that further deepens into complexity. The story paved a way for diverse interpretations, while geared towards many uncertainties and unprecedented revelations at some point, thereby giving the reader a reason to evoke their imagination and thoughts as to what the author intends to reveal. It's suspense-filled, and a luxury of raw, intentional words and emotions.

According to Silvana Milen, the story deepens into complex PTSD and its effects in a way where a fantasy world is built to protect a child from the surrounding violence.

My Little Dreaming Girl

Part One

"The Void"

My Little Dreaming Girl,

Why did you grow up so fast?

Why did you stop dreaming and leave me alone in the dark?

quiet, calm, female voice

It's the emptiest place.

There are small glowing dots. They are like stars! (the voice sounds surprised and excited)

I’m sitting legs-crossed on. Hmm… On the floor? (confused)

It’s not cold.

Where am I? Am I dreaming? This looks so much like Space.

But it can’t be, can it? (silence, pause)

Well, it doesn't matter. (uninterested)

It’s finally happening! (laughing nervously) 

I am going crazy. (silence, pause)

I’ve always dreamed of going to Space. Well, I guess this is my way.(laughing nervously) 

It's so peaceful here. (surprised) 

Quiet. I do not even hear my heartbeat. 

Hmm… Thinking about it, I can not hear my heartbeat—my breath. (curious, yet calm)

Well, I think now I have another theory where I am… (laughing) 

I think I can hear something else… (alerted)

It’s a song! (excited) 

I love this one… 

(Mumbling the lyrics)

I can't remember the last time I felt such peace. (calm, relaxed)

Have I ever? Maybe when I was a child.

Although my mother told me, I have always been in a hurry. And that I had an overactive imagination.

In a hurry to start talking and walking. But not talking with other people. No, no, no. That was not the case. Who would guess I will pay my bills doing what I do? 

Me! The introvert! (laughing) 

Yes, a well-trained introvert, but still an introvert. Let’s not forget that I was the child who cried when I had to go on a school trip. 

Oh, I hated school trips. I hated them so much I had to skip most of them. (remembering something) 

Not by choice, but because we couldn’t pay for the trips. The truth is, it was OK. I’ve never wanted to go anyway. One good thing about not having money. (laughing too loud) 

Things go in a strange direction sometimes… They say every story has both sides. And we do not know how a bad thing can give you something good! 

Bullsh¡t! (angry)

Bullsh¡t! There are bad, horrifying things, and nothing good comes from them. Only pain.

Hey you, 

The one reading. 

Can you feel the silence? It’s scary and deep.

Not just any silence! Imagine the lack of any sound! Imagine an empty room and empty it more. 

The air too. 

You are getting closer to the feeling. 

But you are not there yet!

Now stop! 

It’s better if you go back. 

Take only this advice from me. It’s a good one.

Go back until you still can!

Run if you have to!

*

Where the hell am I? (annoyed)

I can’t remember where I was before I got here. (confused) 

Where was I? What was I doing? (panicking)

Stop! Stoooop! (screaming, crying)

SILENCE 

But it's so peaceful here?! (whispering)

I’m repeating myself! Now, I’m losing my mind! (breaths rapidly)

I can't remember the world being so quiet. It’s always been that noise. Everywhere! All the time! The running thoughts, trying to find their place. So many thoughts...my mind has always been crowded and noisy… 

What’s that? Over there… a galaxy? 

No! There are two galaxies. And they are... Are they colliding?!

Wait! What?! (surprised, confused)

A spiral galaxy is crashing through a smaller one... 

The mutual gravitational attraction between these two overcomes the outward expansion... The monumental collision completely disrupts the spiral structure of both galaxies, creating… beautiful tails… (talking fast, enthusiastically)

Did you hear what I just said? That was smart! (laughing) 

And modest! (laughing harder)

But what's next? The two galaxies merge into a vast destructive dance.

The scene is on replay! Again and again, the two galaxies crashed into each other… creating beautiful tails… (fascinating)

And replay! 

I can see again and again the last moments before the collision. And I can’t do anything to stop it... 

 

Wait! I can hear something! (alerted) 

No, not the song. It is something else! 

Voices? I’m not alone here?! (excited)

Wait! (concentrated) 

I think I’m hearing them closer. Yes! I am! (excited)

A cold, toneless voice of multiple people: Why did you call us again?

Are they talking to me? (confused) 

These voices. Why do they all talk together? There is something artificial in the way they speak.

But they don’t interrupt or interfere with each other. Perfect synchronous. Like a flawless melody.

Wait! There is someone else there. I can hear another voice. I need to get closer. I really want to go there… to join them! (angry)

A little girl, crying quietly, ashamed: ... yelling… again.

The cold voices: You can not be here. 

The Little Girl, sobbing, helpless: They… they are yelling again…

The cold voices, knowing what the girl is talking about, analyzing: Are they yelling at you?

I have to do something! I have to get closer! (desperate)

I can’t move! I have to get there! Let me go! Whatever this is! Let me go! (screaming, crying helplessly)

The Little Girl, quiet and sad: They... I just… I just don’t want to be there... When they start yelling and throwing things. I hide. I hate being there. I want to be here... with you.

Finally! I'm getting closer. I can see her now. She is tiny! And fragile… (smiling)

Look at her long, curly hair. It covers her shoulders and most of her face. It covers most of her. It’s like a protective cloak. 

I want to go there and hug her and tell her… 

Tell her what? I do not know what to say to her. I do not know her. And my empty words won’t help her… (pause)

But it will help me. It will free me. I have to say it out loud!

The Little Girl is looking at something. I can see it now too. It's a… figure: vague and dark. It’s changing its shape. Like it’s trying to look more—human, but it can’t do it the right way. 

This figure belongs here! But I don’t! The girl does not either! 

The Dark Figure: You should not be scared. 

The figure turns its “gaze” from the girl and “looks” at me. I feel at peace again. The anger. The fear— all is gone.

The girl turns and looks at me too. She smiles. Her big, dark eyes are smiling. There is something about her eyes. Something familiar!

I feel warm and happy.

They continue their conversation as if I'm not here. 

Am I here? (confused)

That’s it! I had enough! I will get to them and ask what is going on. What is this place? (talking fast)

No! I can’t move again! What’s happening?! (angry, yelling)

The Girl, speaking fast and enthusiastically: I want to stay here. With you. Forever. I can help you! You know so much about the stars. And I love the stars.

The Dark Figure, interrupting the girl: You know what staying here means. Is this what you want? 

The Girl, looking at her feet and whispering: I think so... I feel better here. It is so quiet. No one breaks things.

She stops for a second and continues with a bit of hope in her voice, racing on her tiptoes and looking at the Figure: And I know you like me too. (smiling) You talk to me. Always! 

She is making a pause and then calmly looks straight at the figure like this is her final and the best argument: And no one will miss me there.

The Dark Figure: If you stay, you cannot be here for long. You can not go back, either.

The Little Girl, worried, chewing a lock of her hair: But... you are here, and you said some people stay here? I can stay, right? If I really, really want it, I can stay!

The Dark Figure: No. 

The girl is quiet. I see the tears well up, but she is not crying. She is a big girl. She is taught big girls don't cry. (sad)

The Dark Figure “showing” concern. Well, “concern” is a strong word, but with a little bit more imagination, we can say it looks like this: Do you want us to explain again? 

It’s like the girl is waking up from a dream. She is back. I see a smile. 

The Little Girl, trying to negotiate: OK. Then I will stay for a while, and then… then I will go back.

The Dark Figure: We will repeat. We cannot say who goes back and who does not. It is not our job. 

The Little Girl, insisting, raising her voice, almost crying. You can hear that high note full of sadness and anger: And who says that? Who decides? Who? Tell me! Please!

The Dark Figure, looking vaguer, trying to disappear: They do. And they know what happens next. There are only three options. There have always been only three options.

The Little Girl, scared and confused: I don’t understand. You confuse me!

She looks at me. She wants my help. I want to help her! 

The Dark Figure: We do not know more. It is not our job. We know if it is not your time. If it is not your time, you will be lost here.

And the anger is back! O, please! What is this philosophical crap! This is too much! I will go there, and I will… 

The Dark Figure, looking at me calmly, even caring: Go home now. 

I open my mouth to speak, but there is no sound. Something is pulling me back. I try to hold on to something! Anything! I try to scream! 

Me, voiceless: Nooooo! I have to stay! I have to help her…

Something is pulling me faster. Everything has just disappeared.

It’s dark and cold now. My head is heavy. (scared)

I hear noises. Someone is yelling. A drunk man!? 

I see The Little Girl hiding under an old table. She is scared. She sees me. She smiles. 

I know she will try again to go to the void and talk to The Dark Figure. She will. And I will go too. We can go together this time.(confident, optimistic)

The Little Girl, whispering: No, I will go alone. You can’t come back.

*

Part Two

"The Emergency Room"

I want to remember who I was, 

my Little Dreaming Girl!

I want to remember everything!

But I am scared…

I’m scared of the monsters!

The void. 

All of the galaxies, stars… everything looks distant and foggy.

The Little Girl and The Dark Figure are talking and “walking” side by side.

A woman is following them.

The Little Girl, worried: But... but you are here, and you said some people stay here? I can stay, right? If I really, really want it, I can stay!

The Dark Figure: If you stay here, you become us. 

The Dark Figure, deeper voices: Do you understand what we have just told you?

The girl is not answering. She is chewing her hair.

The Dark Figure: Do you want us to explain again? 

The Little Girl, trying to negotiate: OK. Then I will stay for a while, and then… then I will go back.

The Dark Figure, explicit: We repeat. We cannot say who goes back and who does not. It is not our job. We do other things.

The Little Girl, insisting, raising her voice, almost crying. You can hear that high note full of sadness and anger: And who says that? Who decides? Who? Tell me! Tell me! Please!

She is trying to stop them—to hug them.

The Dark Figure, looking vaguer, trying to disappear: They do. And they know what happens next. There are only three options. There have always been only three options. 

The Dark Figure, the deeper voices: First: you can go back. 

The Dark Figure, the normal voices: Second: you can continue. 

The Dark Figure, quiet and definitive: Lastly, you can disappear forever. 

The Little Girl, scared and confused, searching for their “eyes”: I don’t understand. You confuse me. A lot! You... 

The Little Girl cannot understand why they just don’t let her stay with them. She will be good. 

She cannot understand why the lady, who is following and listening to them right now, can be here, but she has to go. Yes, the sad, pale women. She is listening to their conversation and even trying to interrupt them. This is very rude. 

But she looks so sad. And she is scared. The Little Girl wants to go and talk to her. Maybe they can stay here together.

But it’s too late.

Something is pulling The Little Girl back. She knows that feeling. She doesn't resist. She just needs to relax, and it could even be enjoyable.

Yes, it is actually nice. You feel light and warm. It’s like a hug. But the hugs always were something limited.

The Dark Figure, calmly, even caring: Go home now. 

The Little Girl is back exactly where she was before. At the exact same moment. Not a second later. This is how it works. 

The Little Girl, talking to herself: They are still yelling.

She is not scared anymore. This is familiar. The noises, the screaming, the bad words they are using. 

*

A noiсe of breaking glass.

A woman screams in pain.

Something is different this time!

The Girl takes a look from under the table...there is glass everywhere. It’s green—grandma’s favorite vase.

Everything happens so fast. Her grandma’s face is bleeding. The old woman is screaming and waving at her.

The grandmother: Go back! Back! Hide!

The girl is hidden under that table. She hears more and more voices. She knows some of them. 

Yes, this is the lady from next door. She is a very nice old lady. 

More voices. These are new.

The girl took another look. Uniforms.

Someone is pulling her from under the table. 

The neighbor, in her nightgown, talking softly: Girl, you need to go now. 

The girl is staring at her face. Why do all old people smell funny?

The night bus. 

The girl and the grandmother are sitting behind the driver.

They are wearing their pajamas and winter coats.

The girl is next to the window. She really likes when she can sit next to the window. It’s dark outside, but she still can see something.

Usually, they will need half an hour to get to the hospital, but it’s late. The bus skips some of the stops. The driver is smoking.

Everyone is smoking. She hates to wake up in the morning and smell the smoke from the previous night. It’s not the usual bad cigarette smoke. It’s darker and thicker. 

The night bus stops. 

The grandmother takes the girl's hand.

They have to get off the bus.

It’s snowing outside…

The Girl knows where they are going. She does not need her grandma to hold her hand or pull her. She sees the sign across the street. She doesn't know what’s written, but they go there when they need to see a doctor. 

Actually, this time is nice. Last time, it was crowded and noisy—too many scared people with wounds. And the doctors were running. 

This time is much better. They won’t wait a lot. 

The Girl needs to get to a window so she can watch the snow.

Her grandmother tries to stop her, but the girl tells her: I will be right here. Don’t worry. Right here. You can see me.

It’s so beautiful. She loves the snow.

It’s starting to snow more, and the doctors who that smoke outside have to go inside. They are complaining. They can build a snowman instead of muttering. Silly people.

The grandmother is calling the girl. It’s their turn. The girl was right. This visit will be a quick one.

She goes after the old woman. She knows the room and where she needs to sit quietly. 

She could convince The Dark Figure to build a snowman together. That would be fun. They can invite the sad woman too. The Girl can show them how to do it. Her uncle taught her. First, you need a small ball. You start rolling the little ball in the snow, and it gets bigger and bigger…

The Girl is smiling and trying to drown something on the frosted window. 

The grandmоther yelled at her: Stop! Do not do that! You will leave the window dirty.

They could leave now. The wound above her grandmother's eye looked small now. There was so much blood, but now everything is clean.

The grandmother thanked the doctor, and they went out.

The plan was to take the bus, but it was already quite cold. The woman hesitated for a moment but headed in the opposite direction.

The grandmоther: We need to take a taxi. I’m not sure if there is another bus.

The Little Girl is happy. She has never been in a taxi. She can tell about this The Dark Figure next time… because there will be a next time! She knows it!

———————————————————————————––—

Silvana Milen is an author exploring the power of fantasy writing against complex PTSD. She is dedicated to creating magical worlds where we can find a safe place but also face our traumas.

Silvana is a Digital Marketing Specialist with over ten years of experience and a part-time university lecturer.

Photo by Hamid Tajik from Pexels