The Mistletoe
Chapter VII

During the following year, we finally managed to gather enough money to travel without having to go through hardships. But between October and December of the year 2020, it was particularly strange, especially the weather oscillating between hot and cold.

I began to have strange dreams from time to time, where a young woman with black eyes, pale skin, was walking through a cemetery. I started browsing the internet seeking answers, but most of the websites spoke about a significant change in my life.

My dad was reading a book.

“What are you reading today, Dad?”

“Um, I think it’s a gothic novel. On your smartphone again?”

“I’m looking for information about a dream I’ve been having from time to time,” I replied.

“What dream, Miguel?” He looked at me curiously.

“Well, I usually dream about a woman around my age with black hair and also black eyes, with white skin. I usually see her in different settings, sometimes in the forest or in a carriage, or walking in an ancient city. She also changes her clothes, but I often see her in some sort of black dress.” I described it rather vaguely because the dream was chaotic and blurry.

My dad took off his glasses, looked at me, and asked, resting his head on his right hand and staring at the ceiling:

“So, you say the city was ancient, but what exact date or period are we talking about, how did people dress?”

“Whoa, slow down, brainiac, let me think, there are too many questions,” I began to think because I didn’t know the names of the clothing.

I started counting: “There were carriages, usually pulled by two horses. Women wore long dresses, and the girl wore a hat. I think I saw a guy with a high or long hat.”

“A top hat, you mean,” he said.

“Whatever, and that’s... I couldn’t recognize more details.”

“Perhaps you dreamt about the 19th century, the famous Victorian era,” he replied.

“And? What do you think it could be?” I asked him.

“Maybe you read or saw something, and it manifested from that era. In fact, I was just reading this book...”

The phone rang, and I had to answer.

“Sorry, Dad, I’ll get back to you in a bit,” I said.

My MOBA team called me; we had a ranked match, and I needed to log in to play.

“Dad! I have an important game. We’ll talk later!”

“Okay,” he said and continued with his book.

I logged into the computer, and we started playing. The match was very close, and we had their carry on the ropes.I was performing really well as a support. Suddenly, the lights went out.

“Oh, come on! Seriously!” I exclaimed.

My dad brought his flashlight, and I grabbed my smartphone. We went to check the circuit breaker and tried to reset it, but with no success. I immediately called the team to pause the game and explained the problem. My father called an electrician to come and check the issue.

I was going crazy. “Dad, when will the electrician arrive? I was in the middle of a match.”

“He said in about half an hour,” he replied.

“And how long will it take to fix the electricity?” I asked.

“No idea, son. That will depend on the complexity of the problem. I suppose it’s a short circuit, so we’ll have to see which area is causing the issue,” he replied calmly.

I started pacing around like crazy, only thinking about the match. We had come so far, and we would climb the ranks if we won, but I didn’t know how long they would wait for us.

The electrician had arrived after forty minutes and apologized for the delay. Then, one of the team members called me:

“Miguel, buddy! Where are you? They’re giving us only five more minutes, or we’ll lose or have to play without you!”

I took a breath and replied, “They’re fixing the problem. Can’t you wait for ten minutes, please?”

“Five minutes, or we’ll have to continue without you!” he warned.

I paced nervously, like a caged lion. My father glanced at me and then at the electrician, who also felt my impatience. Every passing minute was more agonizing, but my fear came true. After four minutes, the electrician said that changing and checking everything would take a bit more time.

It had been more than 10 minutes when finally the electrician signaled us. My dad flipped the switch, and we had electricity again. I dashed to the computer:

“Come on, come on, you’re slower than a snail!” I said while booting up the operating system. Then I had to endure the agonizing game load, and finally, I managed to resume the match, and I saw what I feared.

They had resumed the game and played without me, four against the enemy team, and we lost. We dropped in rank and missed the chance to reach the elite. Then, I received a message on my phone from the team leader.

“You’re out.”

I was furious. I checked my account and confirmed that yes, they had removed me from the group. I slammed the table, accidentally breaking my keyboard in two along with the part it was resting on. My dad quickly came upstairs to see what happened.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to, I’ll... I’ll pay for it with my account...” I sighed, trying to compose myself.

“Son, it’s not about the money...” He said seriously, then added, “There are things in life that just happen, you have no control over them, but you can control how you react to them. Getting upset about it is just wasting valuable energy that you could use for other things.”

“I lost my friends, Dad,” I said, feeling a little sad.

“A true friend would never abandon you like that. A real friend stands by you in good times and bad. They saw you as a tool, not a friend,” he added.

I had many online friends, both on social media and in video games. I had never met any of them in real life; we only communicated through text or voice messages. I realized that I didn’t really know many, if any at all, beyond our gaming or online interactions.

“I hope this helps you to think about it. Let’s go to sleep; we both have work tomorrow,” he finished, before heading to bed.

From that day on, I stopped dreaming about the strange woman.

I continued working in the following days until December arrived. My classes with the teacher gradually improved. The teacher said I had basically achieved a B1 level in German, which was decent for the time I had dedicated to my studies. My dad reached a B2 level, which was a step more advanced.

For my twentieth birthday, I didn’t have a big celebration and postponed the date until a few days before the trip to Styria. It was meant to be a sort of farewell, even if only for three weeks.

At the party, my cousin invited a couple of her friends. I hadn’t invited them, but it was always like that with my cousins. While I talked, or rather listened to my cousins chatting away, I could see from the corner of my eye how my cousin’s friends gossiped about me, laughing and deliberating on who would come to say goodbye to me. It was truly silly. But I didn’t blame them; I wasn’t exactly the most charismatic person in the universe.

“Maybe I intimidate them? Are they afraid of me?” I thought while overhearing their whispers to each other, unaware that I was listening.

As the evening descended, everyone began to leave, wishing us a good trip. My cousin’s friends just waved at me before leaving, and my dad greeted them with a handshake.

The bus trip to Santiago was very agonizing. “I would arrive much faster if I ran,” I thought as I left Llanquihue, with memories of my family and home. We decided to spend Christmas and New Year’s in what would be a cabin in the countryside of that region.

We arrived at the airport, and I could see how big the city was. “To think that the farthest I had gone was Valdivia, and I ran there, using my powers,” I thought as I looked at the buildings. My dad already had on a map the metro stations we needed to take to get to the airport and had printed all the ticket information. When we went to check in our luggage, the check-in girl greeted us with a very cheerful smile, and when our eyes met, I got the impression that she felt a bit uneasy.

“Wow, you have some strength there! You don’t seem to have any problem with those big suitcases,” she joked.

I tried to make a joke, and stuttering a bit, I said, “It’s because I worked... carrying... cement.”

I sounded like a Raven Ravening; I even missed doing the “cock-a-doodle-doo.” The girl at the check-in burst into laughter, which seemed somewhat exaggerated. I didn’t know if she genuinely liked the joke or was laughing at me. My father and I just smiled and moved on.

After finishing the luggage process, we went through security and finally boarded the plane. As it took off, for the first time, I felt a kind of strange flutter in my stomach. I was entering unknown territory, and if there were creatures there, there was a possibility that they could find me.

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