She stared at the photo, her face turning white as a sheet. It looked exactly like the place in her dream. The eerie woods with its tall trees and overgrown grass that looked like hay scattered on the ground and the strange stones arranged in a circle. She was afraid to tell John for fear that he would think that she having a relapse.
Three years ago, she had suffered a nervous breakdown after and it had taken a long time for her to recover. She was fine until she started having the same dream shortly after she celebrated her fortieth birthday.
It began with her walking through the woods and it appeared to her that it was in the early 1900s for she wore a gown which swept the ground as she walked. Why she would venture into the woods unaccompanied, she had no idea. Perhaps it was the adventurous spirit in her. She would walk and walk, until she came to the stones. Curious, she would approach them. They held a strange fascination for her.
There was something unearthly about them. She went to the largest one and after a moment’s hesitation, she reached down and touched it. Suddenly, she was lying on her back, looking up at a man, dressed as a priest dressed in blue and saffron robes and the crackling sound of flames followed by unbearable heat. And then she would wake up, feeling as if her body was on fire.
What did this dream mean? Was she losing her mind again? She was afraid to tell anyone. She didn’t want to go back to the psychiatric ward.
Her hand trembled as she held the photo. She would show it to John and ask him about it and she had to be perfectly calm about it.
After dinner that night when they were relaxing on the sofa, she showed the photo to him. “John, I saw this in the desk drawer,” she said. “When was it taken?”
“I was working on a story about Temple Wood and I found this photo in the archives. I think it was taken in the early 1900s. It was in these woods where it is believed that a missing adolescent girl was burned alive on this large stone–known as the Druid altar.” He pointed to the same stone she had touched in her dream. “Her name was Alice Frawley. She would have been forty if she were still alive today.”
She felt a cold fear clutch at her heart. “Do–do you have a photo of her?”
“I believe so. I’ll go and get it.”
He returned a while later and handed it to her. “Sorry, it took me so long to find it. I’m not sure why it wasn’t with the other photo.”
She took one look at it and fainted.
Startled, he took the photo out of her hand and examined it closely. He scrambled to his feet and ran for the photo album. He flipped through the pages until he came to the photo of Annie when she was a teenager. His face went white when he saw the uncanny resemblance between her and Alice.
Source: Voices From the Dawn