Rushing along the dirt track, I became angry that night had fallen and I was nowhere near home. My mistress kept me longer tonight, cleaning for a special dinner party.  It didn’t matter to her that I would have to walk home in the dark as a rainstorm threatened the area.  Draping the wool scarf over my head and chin, I ducked my head and hurried forward, the town falling away behind me.  My hard leather shoes caused my feet to ache as I tripped over hidden roots and rocks that the darkness hid from my sight.  Blisters formed on top of the ones that had already bled through my socks to trickle into my shoes.  I just wanted to be home, in bed, and off my feet. 

The rain began falling as I neared the dark, somber cemetery.  The gravestones stood as quiet ghostly sentinels watching endlessly into the night.  I had a choice either continue on the long path around the graveyard, or cut across the middle and save nearly a half hour before I reached home.  I stood and pondered the eerie passage through the graveyard wondering if I had the nerve to cross those dark cold slabs in my rush to save time.   

The rain began to fall in earnest as I stood debating my risks.  Nature made up my mind for me.  I stepped through the archway guarded by stone angels as I rushed forward to cut across the graves.  The storm advanced strongly when I was half way through the plots.  Lightning glared making me see gargoyles every way that I turned.  The wind blew hard, nearly knocking me flat as it pushed me forward.   

I saw the shadow of a mausoleum looming before me as the night became even darker.  I could see the name Anastasia Berschauer engraved over the doorway by the strobe affect of the lightning.  The metal gate stood open, beckoning me to enter, as if it would give me sanctuary from the storm.  Thunder rolled and clashed, causing my ears to ring with pain as the rain fell in torrents.  My clothing was soaking wet, my shoes leaking until no part of my feet were dry.  The scarf protected me little as I moved forward to enter the gaping cavern before me.   

With my knees knocking, I entered, not knowing what I would find.  As I stepped through the arch, coldness flooded around me, making me shiver, my teeth were chattering as my body fought to warm up.  Lightning crackled more frequently lighting up the vault as I turned in a circle, peering into each crook and cranny but seeing nothing.   A sarcophagus stood in the center of the room, a solid slab of ice-cold marble. A single dried rose lay on top of it in simple adornment. 

Moving closer toward the tomb, I sat down upon the floor as the wind swept noisily against my sanctuary.  I was cold, chilled to the bone, and shivering violently.  Lightning burned my eyes with its unexpected bursts of silvery flame, lighting up the cloudy sky as if the sun were trying to break through the pitch-black darkness of night.  The wind howled, sending shudders tumbling through my very soul.   

As the storm raged violently around me, fog began to drift thickly into my space, making the vault surreal.  It was so thick I couldn’t see my hand at the end of my arm as it enveloped me in its cloying mist.  Pulling my scarf over my hair and face, I curled into a tight ball to preserve all the heat I had left in me.  I leaned against the tomb as drowsiness settled over my body and I finally rested for the first time in eighteen hours.  My eyes closed unwillingly as I nodded closer to sleep.  Even the ear splitting sounds of thunder and the blinding flashes of light could not keep me awake.  Slowly my body sank sideways toward the floor. 

It was silent as I slept, all sounds tuned out.  Sleep infused my body with heat, stilling the shivers even as my breathing slowed down.  Quiet…..silent…..nothing.  The storm receded until nothing existed but the gentle softness of my breath as I slept. 

I don’t know how long I slept and would probably have slept longer except for the uncanny sensation that I was not alone in the room.  A stirring in the fog around me roused me from sleep as I sensed something or someone was moving closer.  The storm continued outside.  The lightning had dissipated but the rain and thunder droned on as if in battle with one another, each striving to outdo the other.  I could see the fog parting before my eyes, yet, nothing appeared regardless of how hard I strained to see. 

My heart raced and my breathing increased as fear suffused throughout my body replacing the bone chilling cold that surrounded me.  I could feel the hairs rise on my arms and head as fright became my constant companion, but still nothing appeared.  I stared with eyes stretched wide, waiting for fate to fall upon me and not knowing what to expect.  As I waited, I felt the wind blow through the door, yet, it failed to reach me as if blocked by something between me and the draft.  I couldn’t speak as my throat tightened, holding back the scream that was waiting to burst through my dry lips. 

I jumped as the rumble of thunder crashed down upon my hideout.  Then I felt it, the warm caress against my face as the wind changed and blew softly, surrounding me in comforting warmth.  It was as though someone touched my cheek with burning fingers, searing my skin with a passionate stroke.  The cloying mist fell away as warmth spread over my skin, making me hotter and trembling now with unknown wonder as my blood circulated rapidly throughout my body.  I could feel the thunder rocking the mausoleum and the floor trembled under my bottom.  I strained harder to see again as the fog began to form a shape.  I reared against the tomb but could move no further.  I was trapped against the marble behind me.   

The figure was dreamlike, drifting toward me, shaped as a woman in a long straight gown, which covered her feet as she floated above the ground.  It was too dark to make out her features, and even the lightning seemed to shine right through the figure without giving me any more details.  As the wind blew into the room, she drifted closer until she hovered tight against my skin.  Her arms stretched out, reaching for me as the stormy current whipped her closer.   She enveloped me, clinging just as the fog had done earlier, nearly suffocating me with the thickness of her gown.  I reached out to wrap my arms around her, planning to push her away but my hands passed through her body.   

Once more, my heart raced, as I feared what she would do.  I could feel her lips touching my cheek even as I felt the wind blow stingingly against it.  Just as she began moving toward my mouth, a yellow light moved closer toward the mausoleum.  With a blink of the eye, she was gone. 

I felt someone shaking my shoulder and awakened in a panic, my hands clenching tightly.  I could not remember where I was.  A lantern was sitting by my feet and my father knelt next to me, his hand withdrawing from my shoulder.  I looked up at him confused but realized he had come to guide me home.  I looked around the room, seeing no one but the two of us.  My right hand stung as I rose to my feet.  Looking down, I saw a trickle of blood dripping from my palm where my hand clasped a fresh, blood red rose.  The thorns penetrated the soft flesh of my hand.  Where had it come from?  I looked up but the faded rose was still on the tomb.  Father called to me to follow as the storm moved off into the distance.  The rain had stopped.   

As I turned to leave I dropped the rose beside the other and wondered, was it only a dream?