Like most individuals, Asiya had a nightly routine to get her ready to sleep. First came her nightly wudu - ablutions to cleanse herself so she was ready for prayer. Then came brushing her teeth, flossing, and putting on her pajamas. Once all of that was done, Asiya wrapped a scarf around her head and then proceeded to do her isha (nighttime) prayers. Prayer was a wonderful way to wind down from the day, the artist found. It allowed her to go inside herself, turn her thoughts upward to a higher power, and just be calm. Some in her spiritual background didn’t keep to the five daily prayers, but Asiya always kept to them. They helped her in this way, and for that she was grateful. With her final prayers done, Asiya would then read twenty pages of her Qur’an before turning in. The holy book helped to keep her mind from racing as well, and often times she fell asleep with the book in hand, still open as she laid in bed.
Asiya never really remembered her dreams. It wasn’t for lack of trying. Every morning when she woke up, she would do her best to try and recollect on what she dreamed about, but to no avail. If there was the off chance, somehow, that she remembered bits and pieces, none of it ever made any sense. She had never been that lucky. She even tried to keep a dream journal at one point, too.
It lasted all of one night before she threw it away.
This night, however, would be different from the others.
----
Who needed an alarm clock when you had a pet conure?
Guava’s twitters were generally enough to do the trick for Asiya. She was a light sleeper, and even the slightest noise from outside would be enough to startle the girl from her slumber. This time, however, was not the case. Asiya was not awoken by the chirps of her bird. In fact, she wasn’t woken up by anything. Only the silence was there to greet her, and that in and of itself was enough to be alarming.
“...Guava?”
In the real world, Asiya considered herself lucky. Although she didn’t have much in the way of belongings, she at least had enough to meagerly furnish her apartment. She made it a point to pick colorful furnishings and ones that didn’t necessarily match. This way, it allowed her to show off her more creative side, and it was clear from the moment you stepped inside her home that Asiya was an artist. The stark contrast between reality and the dream were apparent right away. In this dream, Asiya had nothing. No furniture decorated her room. There was no color on the walls.
All that remained in the empty apartment was layers of dust and an empty, rusted birdcage.
“...”
What was going on?
Oh, dang it.
Upon exiting her apartment building, Asiya knew exactly what was going on.
She was in other Ashdown. Somehow.
It had to be a dream.
----
Nothing was right in this version of Ashdown.
First and foremost, Asiya was alone. That simple fact would be more than enough to creep anyone out, and weirded out she was. Shoving her hands into the pockets of her coat, the artist made her way down the pedestrian-free streets, while doing her best to keep her eyes peeled for clues, people, or anything in general. There had to be something that gave a clue as to why the other Ashdown was the way it was.
Shouldn’t there?
You would think so.
To try and get herself straight, Asiya went to the one place she figured would be the same: Avant-Garde. Yet this wasn’t the real world, and things weren’t the same. Why would the art-supply store be any different?
The logo of the shop was no longer there, and the hours of operation that were generally underneath were gone as well. Yet the window wasn’t completely blank, as fate would have it. In place of the logo, an odd symbol had been painted instead. Drawn in red ink, a symbol of a sword with a crown above it and stars around it could be seen.
...Huh.
The symbol was intriguing to say the least. Curious, the artist stepped up to the window, in order to get a closer look. Yep -- there wasn’t anything fancy. Just paint that had been drawn to form the symbol and nothing else. No name, no date, nothing. No hint whatsoever at what it could mean.
“...Leave it to this place to have symbols with no meaning..”
Perhaps the library would have more information?
----
If one was in need of information, then they needed to look no further than the library.
Or, at least, that’s how things should have gone.
But how things should work and how they actually worked didn’t always line up, especially within the confines of other Ashdown.
She had wanted to try and find some information. The library was still intact, and it was all Asiya could do to hold herself from running to the front doors of the building. If any place had info on what the strange symbol was, it would have to be here. She had just reached the door, just extended a hand outward, and just wrapped her fingers around the handle to pull…
Only to find that the door was locked tight.
“DANG IT!”
Asiya yelled out in frustration, followed by a slew of curse words in Arabic, and then gave the door a sharp kick with her foot.
Well, it looked like she wouldn’t be finding any information there. The artist shoved her hands into her pockets again, and then turned back to walk into the muted, eerie place that was other Ashdown.
----
Unlike her usual mornings when she woke up gradually, Asiya bolted awake with a jolt.
Bright colors bombarded her eyes right away, a sign she was both awake and back home. Although she didn’t vocalize it, that was a bit of a relief for her. It was just a dream -- that was all. Just a dream.
Yet despite the dream, she couldn’t get that symbol out of her head.
Who did it?
And, more importantly, what did it mean?
Well, guess there was only one way to find out.
She was going to hunt down answers.
[Word Count: 1,074]
