The morning arrived with sunlight spilling through the curtains, gently nudging me awake. But instead of greeting the day with vigor, I was met with a sharp, persistent ache in my head, like tiny construction workers hammering away. A groan escaped me, as I instinctively cradled my head in my hands. Mom, alerted by my faint cries, appeared in the doorway.

"Hey, Jaikar! Are you okay?" She looked at me, her eyebrows knitting together.

"I have a really bad headache. It's pounding," I replied, rubbing my temples.

She stepped closer, her hand hovered over my forehead. "Oh, I'm sorry, honey. Do you want me to make you some herbal tea?"

I nodded. "That would be nice, thanks."

As Mom excused herself to prepare some tea, I gingerly sat up, my hands still holding my head. Moments later, she reappeared, carrying a tray with a steaming cup of tea. She settled beside me, the warmth of the tea mug comforting against my palm.

"Here you go, dear. Have some tea."

Sipping the tea, I said, "Thanks, Mom!"

"Should I take you to the emergency clinic?" Mom asked, her concern evident.

Knowing that hospitals scared her, I quickly added, "No, it's okay. I'll call Uber and go by myself if the pain continues."

"Alright, but promise me you'll call me if it gets worse or if you need anything, okay?"

I managed a weak smile. "I promise, Mom."

After finishing the tea, I quickly got myself ready and called for an Uber. The morning air felt crisp against my skin as I stepped outside and climbed into the car. The driver greeted me warmly, starting a friendly conversation that helped distract me from the persistent ache in my head.

The journey continued, with the driver navigating through the city streets. After a while, we arrived at the clinic. I expressed my gratitude to the driver for the pleasant ride before stepping out of the car and making my way inside for treatment.

Inside the clinic, I walked up to the reception desk and described my symptoms to the nurse. She nodded understandingly and directed me to a nearby waiting area. Sitting there, the ticking clock seemed to amplify my anxiety about the doctor's diagnosis. At last, my name was called, and I quietly followed the nurse to a small examination room.

The doctor listened attentively as I described my symptoms, his expression thoughtful. After a thorough examination, he diagnosed me with post-traumatic dream syndrome, a condition that can occur after experiencing a painful event.

He recommended that I visit a psychologist immediately for further evaluation and treatment. Understanding the importance of prompt action, he provided me with the contact details of a renowned psychologist, assuring me that she had extensive experience in treating similar cases and would be able to evaluate my condition.

I stepped out of the observation room feeling a bit exhausted. The nurse with a gentle demeanor, approached me with a painkiller injection to ease the pain temporarily. I winced slightly as the needle pricked my skin, but soon felt a soothing numbness spreading through my body.

Feeling grateful for the doctor's guidance, I wasted no time in scheduling an appointment with the recommended psychologist. That afternoon, I arrived at the psychologist's office, my heart fluttering with nerves and anticipation. The psychologist, a kind-looking woman in her late fifties, welcomed me warmly and invited me to take the seat in front of her.

"Hello Jaikar, how are you feeling today?"

"I'm feeling a bit nervous, but also hopeful. I've been struggling with distressing dreams for a while now," I said, shifting slightly in my seat and clasping my hands.

"I understand. It's perfectly normal to feel anxious about seeking help," she said, leaning slightly forward in her chair. "Let's talk about these dreams. When do they occur, and what do you dream about?"

"They usually occur at night, and they began after I sustained a powerful blow to my head. In the dreams, the person who inflicted the blow on me keeps appearing."

"Thank you for sharing that with me," she replied, her tone gentle and understanding. "Have you noticed any patterns or triggers that seem to precede these dreams?"

"I've noticed that stress seems to make them worse. Whenever I'm feeling anxious, the dreams are becoming more intense."

She nodded, jotting down notes on her notepad. "That's a common trigger for people with post-traumatic stress disorder. It's important to address the stress to reduce the frequency of these dreams."

She then explained that she would conduct a test where I would be allowed to dream while being monitored. This would help her understand the nature of my dreams better and tailor a treatment plan. I agreed and lied down in a comfortable room, with sensors attached to monitor my brain activity. I was instructed to relax and allow myself to fall asleep naturally. As I drifted off, I entered into a dream state, and she observed my brain activity patterns.

I found myself aboard a sleek spaceship, hurtling through the cosmos at breathtaking speed. The bright stars streaked past the viewport, casting an ethereal glow over the control panel where I stood, clad in a futuristic black spacesuit.

Suddenly, a voice resounded through the spaceship. "I warned you," the voice boomed, sending a shiver down my spine. I turned around to see Rahul standing there, his expression dark and menacing.

"I'll hunt you down, no matter where you hide," he declared, his eyes flashing with determination. I tried to reason with him, but he vanished into thin air, leaving me.

The dream took a sinister turn as the spaceship began to malfunction, hurtling towards a distant planet at an alarming speed. I frantically tried to regain control, but the controls were unresponsive. Just as I thought all was lost, the spaceship suddenly stabilized, and I found myself standing quietly on the planet's surface.

The alien landscape stretched out before me, a surreal and breathtaking sight. Towering crystal formations rose from the ground, sparkling in the light of a distant, unfamiliar sun. Each crystal seemed to pulse with its own inner light, casting an iridescent glow that illuminated around.

The flora was equally mesmerizing, with plants unlike anything I had ever seen. Some plants had delicate, translucent petals that shimmered in the light, while others boasted leaves with patterns so intricate, they could have been handcrafted by an extraterrestrial artisan. The air was filled with a sweet, intoxicating fragrance, adding to the otherworldly ambiance.

As I stood in awe, a sudden loud crack shattered the tranquility. I turned to see Rahul, his expression twisted with rage, tearing down one of the towering crystal formations. With a menacing roar, he charged towards me, with his hockey bat.

I woke up with a start, my heart racing from the intensity of the dream. The vivid imagery of the alien landscape and Rahul's ominous warning ran through my mind like a movie on repeat. I tried to calm myself and shake off the remnants of the dream, but the sense of unease persisted.

"The spaceship and alien planet could symbolize a desire for exploration or a sense of the unknown in your life," the psychologist explained, gesturing outward.

"That's interesting. I do feel like there are a lot of unknowns in my life right now, especially with my career and future."

"The presence of an assailant in your dream might indicate unresolved conflicts. His behavior could represent feelings of being threatened," she suggested calmly.

"I need to confront these issues with Rahul," I muttered, crossing my arms.

She leaned in slightly, her voice gentle yet firm, "While the dream was unsettling, it was likely just a response to your trauma. There's no indication of any real danger."

I nodded, taking in her words. "That makes sense. Thank you for helping me out!"

"I'm glad I could help provide some clarity."

She recommended relaxation techniques, such as deep breathing and meditation, to help reduce stress and anxiety levels. Additionally, she mentioned the possibility of cognitive behavioral therapy to address any issues contributing to my dreams.

She explained the benefits and potential side effects of the medication, emphasizing that it was a personal choice and that we would monitor its effectiveness together. I thanked her for her guidance, feeling grateful for the hope she had given me.

Feeling reassured by the psychologist's explanation, I left her office with a renewed sense of determination. As I stepped out into the bustling city streets, I made a mental note to incorporate the relaxation techniques she had suggested into my daily routine. I hailed a cab and settled into the backseat. Arriving back home, I felt a newfound sense of calm.

"Hey Jaikar, how did it go?" Dad asked. "Sorry, I was on duty. Otherwise, I would have dropped you at the clinic myself."

"No worries, Dad. The doctor explained everything to me. They did some basic tests, and it turns out that it's something called post-traumatic stress disorder."

Dad listened attentively. "That sounds pretty serious! What exactly is it?"

"It's basically a condition where I have these vivid and distressing dreams because of my head injury. But the good news is that the doctor reassured me that it's a natural response to trauma and that there are treatments available to help me manage it."

Dad nodded, with a look of understanding. "That's good to know. Take some rest now!"

Later, Mom insisted, "Have some food and go to sleep, dear. You'll feel better."

After finishing my meal, I found a cozy spot near the window where the afternoon sunlight streamed in. The warmth of the sun felt comforting against my skin as I settled down into a comfortable position.

I woke up from my nap in the evening, feeling refreshed and ready to find Ritu. Quickly getting up, I headed out, hoping to catch up with her. As I walked, I scanned the surroundings, hoping to spot her familiar figure among the moving crowd.

I soon spotted Meera and Chaya, but there was no sign of Ritu. I approached them and asked if they had seen her. Chaya shook her head, her expression puzzled. "No, we haven't seen her since this morning."

"I have something of hers," Meera said, showing me a small jewelry box. She carefully opened the box to reveal the heart shaped pendant. "Ritu said she doesn't need it and wants you to have it."

Tears welled up in my eyes as I gently took the pendant, tracing its contours with my fingers. "Thank you for letting me know."

Meera and Chaya exchanged a sympathetic glance, their eyes reflecting the understanding of how much Ritu meant to me. They could sense the depth of her absence and the impact it had on me.

With a heavy heart, I tucked the pendant safely into my pocket, knowing it would serve as a reminder of the friendship and the love we shared. As Meera and Chaya offered me their support, I felt a glimmer of hope that one day, Ritu would return, and we would be reunited once again.