It was always at two in the night that she would wake from her sleep aroused by a voice calling out her name. The voice sounded familiar her as if she had known it for ages but she could never figure out who it belonged to. It seemed to come from a distance but even the direction from which it came was not clear to her.
It was on her twentieth birthday that something changed. That night she awoke again, disturbed by the voice calling out her name. She was drawn towards it like a moth towards a flame and her feet carried her out to the backyard where she stood unsure about how she had reached there. She could hear that voice again but this time it was much clearer than she had ever heard before. She could also tell that the voice was coming from deep within the forest just beyond the fence of her house. She knew what she had to do and without a second thought, she opened the small gate at the back and started following the voice into the wood as if in a trance.
She kept walking for half an hour, deeper into the forest till the trees shielded even the moon from her. She reached a clearing in the forest after an hour and could now see a small cottage with a single light flickering in the kitchen. She could still hear the voice calling out her name but it wasn’t human. It was as if the entire area was filled with the voice and each tree or the very air itself was calling out to her.
She knocked on the door of the cottage. The voice stopped abruptly. It seemed like the knock had either choked the voice or awakened something else which wasn’t supposed to be disturbed. A minute went by as she waited for someone to appear at
the door. It was an old man who hobbled and opened the door.
He saw her at his door bathed in moonlight which was shining brightly in the clearing and a smile broke on his face. It was a smile filled with pure happiness and disbelief. His eyes wide open; he tried to figure out if he was awake or still dreaming. How could this happen? He wondered, but all that mattered now was that she was here and he could finally rest. He stood at the door staring at her for long with loving eyes and his smile didn’t leave him for a moment. “You have returned to me, at last” he whispered to her before collapsing in her arms as he breathed his last. She caught him just before he was about to hit the ground and sat down with his head resting on her lap. He had died a happy man but she still had questions that needed some answers.
She pulled his body inside and rested it on his bed before she started looking through his house to find some connection between him and her. She stumbled across a folder which had numerous papers and photographs in them. And there it was, the same man photographed on his wedding day and standing beside him was she herself, his bride. She was stunned by her discovery but she kept digging into the folder. The next item was a smudged old paper, a death certificate. The man’s wife
had died in a car accident 20 years ago at two in the night.
She felt herself going numb as this seemed more than a coincidence. It was as if fate had written a story for her but with a twisted sense of destiny. She dug in further. It was full of love letters that the couple had sent each other and she could not help but go through them. Two letters, however, meant more than others.
The first one was from the man to his wife’, a line of which read, ‘…I think I am in love with you as even in my dreams I cannot stop myself from calling out your name.’
The other letter was from the wife to the man, the last line of which read, ‘And I will return to you, no matter where I am, every time that you’ll call my name”.