I had another dream last night. It was Andromeda. These days, my thoughts seem to be gravitating more and more to this girl whom I haven't seen since graduation. But in this dream, I saw a sleeping Andromeda on the ever-empty blue line train. She was sitting in the opposite corner with her head leaning on the window. Even though I didn't recognize her at first, as I approached her I made out a really chic outfit with a white skirt and red blouse.

"Heya Andrea, it's been a while hasn't it?" I asked her. She didn't move. It's as if she didn't even notice that I was there. "Andrea, can you hear me?" as I tried to rouse her up. I touched her cold and lifeless face and checked for a pulse. It was faint, but it was there.

"Maverick station, Maverick." the mechanized voice seemed to taunt me with the monotony of every syllable.  It had started raining. Doors open, and before I'm able to move, swarms of wet high schoolers flood into the train. Within moments, the train was jam packed and moving off. "Wait, wait, there's an injured person on the train, let us pass!" but it was useless. The boisterous chanter droned out my voice like a gorilla stampede in the congo jungle.

I turn back to Andrea, and I noticed something different about her. Small black spots began to appear over her body. Taking her hand, it was like gangrene infesting, accumulating and decaying. The black spots began to grow larger and larger until I was no longer holding a human hand. “Wood Island Station. Wood Island.” The mass of decayed flesh had begun to crumble into pieces as I tried desperately to cling on. As train doors open, the school kids all dissipate. I'm left alone with the heap of what was once Andromeda. Andromeda. Gone. Forever.

-

One thought. One feeling. One defining emotion. Helplessness. I woke up to a sense of total and complete helplessness. I could do nothing to prevent her death. I wasn't able to get her out of the train. I wasn't able to prevent the decay of her bones. There was not one thing I could do except accept her fate. Helplessness.

Normally dreams like that would have never bothered me to such an extent, but on that night, my life changed.  A girl who has trouble accepting herself; someone with no real friends or future prospects, Andromeda may have very well been just an archetype of a simple story. But this was different, because I could feel it. This was a message in a bottle (or in my case, a dream). She was definitely reaching out to me.

-

Andromeda. If you can hear me, know that I'm coming for you. I'm not there yet, and I'm still a little helpless but I can promise you that it won't always be like this. If you need me, I'll be there for you. I won't give up and you won't disappear. I won't let you. I promise.

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-I don't like the original dream thing we had in 2.3 or something. It's too blatant and noob. We'll get rid of that part and incorporate anything salvageable in here. it's still a work in progress.
-3.4 has to be where Chris disappoints and hurts Andromeda. It'll probably be a longer chapter, ne?
-You've been writing in your notebook, if it's okay with you, i'd like to read it.
-This chapter is a re-connector of sorts. College has been rendered our two protagonists completely isolated from each other so that new characters could be introduced. I think it's time that we bring it back together.
-It's still a work in progress, but this dream that Kurelas has... it has to be gruesome and scary in a way. He needs to be scared to the point of inspiration. He must really hear something special from Andromeda... even if she's not explicit in her actions later on. There must be a sort of inside joke kind of intimacy that exists even though they're practically strangers after all time they've spent a part.
-The setting is based upon the blue line. You see that, ne? Again, it's all a work in progress but what do you think of the whole idea?

      I was impressed. I had fun yesterday at the mall; shopping around for new clothes and candy is like therapy, regardless of how unhealthy. We drove back to my house, two minutes before 8 and my father --unsurprisingly-- was already standing on the doorstep. He thoroughly ignored Kimmi's wave, but he couldn't ignore the handshake Chris gave when introducing himself. I couldn't believe he actually wanted to meet my father.

      My parents, however, were not as impressed. Chris, apparently, was unfit for me and gave my mother bad vibes. They don't really even know him yet, I thought. If they did, they'd realize he's a pretty humorous guy. Maybe they'd even admire him for his grand articulation. I laughed. If he had a chance in their perfect palm-pilot calendar.

      Just at that moment, Chris messages me online. I didn't see him on earlier, but I go to his message box. We talk for an hour, starting with nothing in particular and ending with a heated debate over the ethics of Dr. House before I had to log off. I haven't had such a lively conversation in a long time, and I was glad Chris wanted to talk to me.

       School on Monday dragged on by like every other day. After school though, Chris was in his car outside of the front doors. Next to me, Kimmi giggled and chanted "Ooh I think he likes you, ooh I think he likes you," and I lightly punched her in reply. Dragging her alongside me I approached Chris. He said he was waiting for Tom, but he wouldn't mind giving me a ride home.

       I hopped inside, with the four of us in the car again, it felt like something was finally going right. Like the pieces all falling in place.