I fell asleep listening to 'Ofelia's Lullaby' on auto-repeat, and I had this dream. *shrugs* Thought it might be cool. Though why I was dreaming in Spanish I will never know...

I awaken in a forest. Soft white light filters through the trees. I stand and look around with disillusion. Ancient trees reach up to the sky with thin, willowy branches, all bare in winter. Slowly leaves fall to the ground like a rain.

I slowly look around; mist surrounds me everywhere. I slowly walk through the forest, my feet making no noise on the ground. I feel like a ghost... no, I am a ghost, as I have always been my entire life – unseen, silent, young and new with these silent giants, but ancient nonetheless. I walk for what seems like eternity, until I come to a stop. I see someone else walking through the woods. A woman, bathed in soft white light, is passing by ahead of me. Everything about her is white – her porcelain skin, her white dress that seemed to be made from the mist itself, her long hair. She looks at the ground as she walks, a small smile finding its way through her look of sorrow. I follow her.

She reaches out her hands slightly to brush against our silent watchers, and I hear her haunting voice float around us. She hums a slow, quiet tune that wraps around me, lulling me into a sense of security. I look up and realize that she is gone. I hurry forward, to find her, and see her kneeling next to a tiny seedling. It is small and warped, its growth stunted by the snowy plants around it. She smiled and gently cupped it in her hand, humming softly. The leaves seemed to hear her, growing stronger and healthier as I watched. She stood and smiled as the seedling grew into another tall tree, surpassing the other plants. I feel tears come to my eyes, and I bend my head and let them fall onto the ground, thrown into the shadow of the tall tree. I go to my knees, hiding my face in shame. I have no right to be here, among such beauty. I rock back and forth, crying for my lost soul. The trees looked down upon me, the poor, tortured ghost at their feet. They paid no mind to me - soon enough I will be gone, but a memory to them. It has been so all my life - I am nothing but a passing fancy, an old soul who haunts the same place, night after night, week after week.

I feel a soft hand on my face and look up to the woman's soft face. She wipes away my tears and speaks. "¿Por qué lloras?" She asked me.

I sniff and look at my feet. "Lo siento." I whisper.

She stroked my face. "¿Por qué?"

I bite my lip. "Soy un fantasma." I whisper.

She laughs and shakes her head. "Tú dice 'Soy fantasma'. Pero, no eres."

I frown, more tears falling. "Qué soy?" I question.

She smiles again. "Tú eres ." She says, kissing my forehead. She holds me as I cry, softly humming again. The comforting sounds lull me into a dark, heavy sleep that envelops me with velvet wings.