Prologue

Three years have passed since that day––the day when my parents found me unconscious in the middle of the meadows.

Ever since then, I always had this dream—a dream which always woke up me in the middle of the night, tears dimming my vision even more.

It feels surreal as though I dove graciously into an ocean of complete ecstacy and melancholy which will be then followed by twinging pain and sudden nudges in my chest—it hurts so bad, I could hardly breathe.

The vague memories hurt as much as his remaining dull touches as though they've left scars into the depths of my soul.

Why is he always showing up in my dreams?

Who is he?