She was in heaven. Literally. The sky was so blue and the clouds looked soft and fluffy. The sun shone brightly through the spaces between the white clouds.

It was so pretty up here.

But Claire was having a hard time moving. She wanted to scoop the clouds using her hands so much but she couldn't. Nor could she move her legs to bounce above the fluffy-looking mass.

"Hahaha! Hahaha!" She heard a series of laughter. They were kids' voices. Many of them. "Hahaha! Hahaha!"

She searched around, at first seeing nothing but the almost empty sky. Then, she saw naked little boys and girls approaching her. She was expecting them to be cherubs, much like the statues in Palasyo Marilag, with white feathered wings and a halo on top of their heads, but they weren't.

These kids had leathery red skin and they had no halos nor hair on their heads. On their foreheads were two horns, sharp and pointy. Their wings were like those of bats. Their blazing red eyes were trained on Claire's as they laugh at her and encircled her in a kind of macabre dance.

"Claire! Claire! Hahaha! Hahaha!" They were repeatedly laughing and chanting her name.

"Get away from me!" She screamed but the little demons didn't stop.

Their circle was getting smaller. They were inching closer to Claire with every step.

"Stop! Get away from me!"

"Hahaha! Hahaha!"

They wouldn't listen to her. What the heck is this dream? Dream? Yes, she remembered. This was a dream. And she was looking forward to this moment--to dream and finally talk with Keith.

Jonathan Del Monte told her to call him "Dreamweaver" when she needed him. She needed him now.

"Dreamweaver!" she shouted with all of her might. "Dreamweaver, where are you? I need a favor!"

The little demons suddenly stopped dancing and eyed her curiously. She didn't have the time to deal with them so, becoming brave, she casually walked out of their circle.

"Poof!" "Poof!" One by one the devils disappeared into clouds of smoke. The white, fluffy clouds in front of Claire parted and a single red thread appeared on the sun's ray. It was heading directly to the sun where someone sat on a throne.

She knew who he was.

Claire felt like crossing her arms around her chest. "Is he acting like a king or something?" She was thinking but blurted out in her dream. "Did he hear it?"

"I heard it." Jonathan Del Monte stood up and pulled the red string. Claire was standing on it so she got pulled with it. Now face to face, he said, "Dreams lie but dreamers don't."

"H-huh?"

"Your dreams can be anything--your subconscious thought, things you saw, you heard, what you like, what you fear, a past life, or something very random. It doesn't mean it has something to do with you. But the dreamer, oh... The dreamer cannot lie in a dream. Your words will always be the truth. If you're alone, your thoughts remain a thought, but with others--"

"A Dreamweaver or someone who dream hopped?" she supplied.

The boy flashed his white teeth with a toothy smile. "You're right. Your thoughts will be heard."

"And they're always the truth."

"Yes."

"I don't believe you." Claire was sure she just thought that. She immediately clasped a hand over her mouth.

"Now, do you?" He offered her his hand, "Here, my lady. In this dream, I am your knight. With my bow and arrow, I will protect you." He said this with a wink.

Claire wasn't able to stop her thoughts from voicing, "I'm sorry but I don't like it when I'm treated like a lady who needs a knight."

The boy didn't take back his hand. "But you can hardly move."

"Then teach me."

His eyebrows shot upward.

"That's different from solely depending on a boy," she clarified.

Jonathan Del Monte snapped his fingers and his throne disappeared, and so did the red thread. "Okay," he said. "First, remember that you have a different body in your dreams." he waved his hand and on their side, a big mirror appeared.

Claire looked at herself and couldn't believe what she saw. Her reflection was so different from what she actually looked like. She was shaped like a human, yes, but her body was made from stalks, thorns, and red roses. Some roses were wilted and as for the fully-bloomed ones, as she moved, a petal or two fell from them, quickly disappearing before they touched the ground. "W-why? I don't understand..."

"You look like beautiful grief," Jonathan Del Monte commented.

How can grief be beautiful? It always sucked. Then, she noticed, "Why do you look the same? You're even in our school uniform."

"Of course, I'm different."

Well, he is the Dreamweaver.

"So, how do I move easily?" Claire could move her arms up and down but it required much effort. She was having an even harder time moving her legs.

"Do not think about moving your limbs specifically," the boy said. "In dreams, only the desire to move will move you. If you want to go forward then think 'front, front, front.' Come on, try it."

"That simple? Okay, let me try. Front, front, front," she muttered repeatedly and she was able to move successfully! She laughed out loud and exclaimed, "You're amazing! You might be narcissistic but you have incredible abilities! I'm sorry, I didn't mean calling you that-- Actually, I'm not sorry-- I'm sorry now-- I'm not-- How do I stop this?"

Jonathan Del Monte floated in front of her, "grinning like an idiot," she suddenly voiced out. She almost swore.

"You'll get used to it," the boy just said. "Where do we go?" he asked.

"Wait, I was about to ask you that. Aren't you the great Dreamweaver?"

"But this is your dream. I could but I prefer that you manipulate it. I'm sure that you can control this place better than anyone else."

"How?"

Jonathan opened his arms wide. "Easy. This dream is yours. Just think about what you want to see. What you want to do. Like dancing. Your dream is the music, now you add your moves."

"That doesn't sound easy." She thought out loud, "How do you communicate with someone inside a dream? I just want to talk to Keith. They said dreamers can dream hop with your help."

"That's the problem, I don't have his thread."

"Thread?"

The boy waved both of his hands and from them, a great number of threads appeared. They were the same threads Claire had been seeing around him from time to time. Jonathan Del Monte explained, "These are all the threads of the people of Sta. Barbara, that's as far as my ability goes. I can make you hop into the dreams of anyone you desire, as long as I have their thread. Keith's thread is not here."

"So he's not in Sta. Barbara?"

"I cannot say that."

Then how could she communicate with him now? One thing was for sure, he still was communicating with her through her dreams. "He could be the one visiting me in dreams. I need to find him in here!" Manipulate her dream, Jonathan Del Monte said. "How about this?" She imagined a door and one appeared right before their eyes. Bingo! That was amazing.

The Dreamweaver opened it and disappeared inside. Claire followed.

"What the actual fudge!"

They were shoulder-deep in a pond of matcha latte. It was sticky but smelled good. Maybe tasted good too.

"You love matcha so much, don't you?" Jonathan Del Monte teased.

"Dreams lie but dreamers don't. But, yes, I absolutely love it. Wait a minute." She concentrated and focused on different images in her mind. Suddenly the whole room was flushed and the wild current led them to the dry and sunny patio of the Belmonte household. "This one's better," Claire remarked.

"Yeah, I agree." The boy started looking around.

Claire did too. "Keith!" she called out. "I'm here! Are you here? Please show yourself! Keith!"

"He's not in here. Let's go inside?"

"Sure." They opened the door and let themselves inside the mansion in Claire's dream. It was the same except for the statues floating around. They looked exactly the same as the little devils the girl encountered earlier. "Nasty little things," she murmured. "Keith!"

They looked in the other rooms, too, but he wasn't there. Soon, they found themselves standing outside the door of Mr. Belmonte's office.

"We haven't searched in here yet," she said and Jonathan Del Monte nodded.

He tried turning the knob but the door wouldn't open. "It's locked."

Locked even in her dreams? "No, I got this." Claire knelt on the floor and produced a couple of clips in her hand. Using the skills she learned online, she picked the lock. Something clicked and she was able to finally open the door.

But Keith still wasn't there.

Claire's heart sank. What if he didn't want to be found? Or what if he was just part of her fantasy? "What if I never find him?" her thoughts were voiced out again.

"It's alright, we will find him." Jonathan Del Monte said those words with so much determination.

"Thank you, Jonathan, really," she said honestly. "Thank you for helping me and doing this much for Keith. But why did you suddenly agree? You even lied that I wasn't psychic. I mean, I'm manipulating my dreams now."

The boy floated close to her and leaned on the white walls. "You intrigue me. When I first saw you, I thought you were pretty. But, when I had breakfast with you, my threads acted strangely. I think that wasn't a good sign so I didn't want to do anything with you. I wanted us to remain strangers. I didn't want to help you. Then, I saw you inside the cabinet in Fernando's office, muttering Keith's name over and over again. That changed everything. I wanted to know what happened to that missing boy, too. What connects the two of you? Why you? And how can I help you?"

"Thank you, I guess. Whatever your reason is you're still a big help. And you've been so kind. You know, you're not as bad--"

"Wake up, sleepyhead! Ms. Suarez is making us attend the boring Sunday assembly at church. You have to join us!"

Claire opened her eyes. The sky was still dark and the moon shone brightly with the stars. She looked at her alarm clock. It was already 4:05 am. She forgot to set it on last night. Usually, she woke up at 3:30 am on Sundays. The assembly started at 5:30 am.

"She will join us, Anika. Claire's dad is devoted to the church, Her family always attends the assembly," Wendy reminded their friend.

Claire stood up and told them she'd meet them at the patio after she had washed and dressed up.

The memories left behind by the dream last night fogged her mind. She couldn't think of anything else but wanting to find Keith and asking him her questions.

Tonight.

She would try again tonight.

Georgie kept on using her phone, Anika had yawned more than ten times, and Wendy actually fell asleep sitting at the bench during the assembly while a middle-aged man in his white long-sleeved polo preached about the need for more devotion from the people of Sta. Barbara. "If not," he said while waving his right hand with force, "you will be damned! I have listened to the voice of an Angel and heard its command!"

It had always been the theme of the preachings of the Church of Heavenly Angels. Maybe all religions were like that? Claire wasn't sure. And she also wasn't sure if she should believe those preachers. Her dad was a devotee, surely, coming to church every Sunday and giving his hard-earned money to them, but Claire? Honestly, she didn't know what to believe. She just went to church because her father wanted her to.

Soon, thunder rolled above.

When the assembly ended, the sky was gray and needles of water fell down from the sky. Many had their umbrellas, including Claire. She said goodbye to her friends and spotted her father walking away. She was about to call him when she noticed Jonathan standing in one corner, without an umbrella, and looking at the sky. The rain showered on him and trickled down his face, his hair, and his body. She didn't see him inside the church during the assembly. Maybe he just waited for his mom outside.

A memory flashed in her mind.

"It looks beautiful at this angle, Claire!" the young Keith was outside the church, looking at the sky while it was raining.

Then, another memory.

Keith brought his favorite toy, a bow and an arrow, one Sunday to the church saying, "I'm going to be your knight, Claire. With my bow and arrow, I will protect you!"

Why was she reminded of these memories as she looked at the boy?

Word Count: 2,140
Total Word Count: 13,113