She wasn’t really sure why the dreams bothered her so much. They weren’t nightmares, not at all. But somehow… They didn’t make sense. They weren’t right. As if they weren’t her dreams. Dreams belonging to someone else came to her at night, leaving her confused and wondering about her own mind and even her sanity.

Why were her dreams not her own, whose dreams were they?

Were none of her dreams her own? The one about the kittens seemed to be something she’d dream of… But was it?  It was strange, she didn’t feel scared or threatened, but the dreams did bother her. Whoever dreamt them needed help, somehow. She didn’t know how she knew, but she could tell. Something wasn’t quite as it should be in those dreams.

Perhaps the colour of the sky sounded wrong, or the hallways were a little too high, but it was something she couldn’t define, couldn’t quite put her finger on. She needed to find out what was wrong and find out who dreamt such strange dreams. Perhaps she could fix them, make them as they should be.

But she had no idea where to start.