Project Aidan

The Prelude to Her Madness...

Dreams are mystical things. They tell the future, the past, and the present as brief tangled flashes of time. Have I dreamed Aidan before his creation? Indefinitely. The Aidan before me was not that shining knight who rescues damsels in distress that I had endlessly hoped for, but a cruel being that would stop at nothing to meet his demands. No, I am wrong. The Aidan I see is the Aidan I failed to recognize. He had always been there, waiting to be dreamed, crouching, and ready to pounce on the sandman who will lead him to the dreams that catch the heart.

I dreamed one night, before he entered my life, that I was a dancer in a timeless ballet. The other dancers moved with gentle grace that I was envious of but I danced on with my frustration. The world hushed. Nothing mattered but this steady violent dance that I had begun until the main lights on stage exploded with disapproving fury. My vicious dance continued in the dark, no one could see, only imagine, that intensity that possessed my feet and made me continue dancing. Then one spotlight rained its reprimanding light upon me and I became subdued. The rage in me vanished in that cold light and wafted to me, a feeling of relief. I danced with elegance and a different passion of hope and adoration but then that light vanished and I was left the dark that no longer welcomed dancing.

Before Aidan, I had loved another. I presumed my feelings for him as love, but it was never destined to be. Unrequited, my actions chilled to cowardice and never approached him in time. I truly imagined that I loved that boy. Without him, however, Aidan would have never been. As much as I feel foolish for believing I had loved him, he was a necessary provocation to lure Aidan from that cursed dimension of dreams.

His name was Errol. I had cherished him since childhood and wished even then, that I would become his bride. The amity that I felt with Errol was unlike any other in my life. His presence glorified mine to trust in him that he shared my affection, yet this was not to be. He had no room to love me as more than a friend, but for her, he did. He would move mountains and oceans to see her smile, and labor until he died to see her reciprocate his love.

I still remember the day I saw his blushing face, that shy smile in that glimmer of a sunbeam that peeked through the clouds when he confessed to me the identity of his beloved. That was the day my hopes died of ever being loved by him; but arose in me that I can still love him in the manner of platonic love as he so felt towards me. He trusted in me, as a dear friend, to support him in his quest for her love. The love of that vile creature that at tore his poor heart until it shattered into a million pieces. It was that girl, my mere acquaintance, Richelle, who made Errol cease living; and it was Richelle that caused me to bring Aidan from that barrier between dreams and reality.