.: Meri :.
❅ a crystal dream ❅
Bertha beamed as she held up her new music box. It was handmade, carved from a pretty, light-colored wood. The lid was even delicately painted with an elegant floral design and a violin. ‘I’m so happy I moved to this island.’ She’d already made so many new friends, and while she’d thought for a while that their island representative hated her, this proved her worries wrong.
Like her, he was probably just shy, and struggled talking to new people. She was afraid she’d upset him somehow, but if he was mad at her, or hated her even, then there was no way he’d make a beautiful gift like this for her.
She set it down on her nightstand and carefully wound it before opening the lid. The gentle notes of K.K. Lullaby met her ears. It was already pretty late anyway—she grabbed a nice book and decided to wind down with it and her new music box (just for a little while) before she went to sleep.
She woke up in a cold sweat the next morning. ‘It was just a dream, just a dream—’ she reassured herself. She didn’t normally remember her dreams, but the thought of her dream-self being chased by a scorpion was still fresh in her mind. Her legs were so slow and so heavy, then she’d tripped, and—
Bertha shook her head and took a few deep breaths. As she exhaled, she heard a faint noise, like a series of light, rapid taps on the floor. She froze. The sound was so quiet she wasn’t sure she heard it at all, and it was silent now. ‘Relax, it’s just your nerves...’ She turned to hop out of bed only to hear the faint tapping again. It sounded like it was coming from underneath her.
Her heart raced again. Swallowing, she leaned over the edge of her bed, and there in the shadows was an even darker silhouette. She squinted, unable to make out exactly what it was.
The silhouette hissed, and now she could clearly make out the shape of pincers and a stinger raised menacingly.
She screamed and bolted upright, pulling her covers up to her face. ‘I need to get out of here, but I can’t get out of bed with it under there! What do I do?!’
Her answer came from her front door as her neighbor, Tom, flung it open. “Bertha?! What’s wrong?!”
“U-under my bed, there’s…!” she stammered, and right on cue, the scorpion skittered out into the open. Tom spotted it instantly and narrowed his eyes.
“Oh, so you wanna mess with my neighbor, huh, you little punk?!” Tom whipped out his net. Accepting his challenge, the scorpion hissed and charged. Bertha covered her eyes with a yelp, unable to watch. Furniture crashed, there was more hissing, and finally—"Gotcha, you creepy jerk!”
Bertha peeked out from between her hooves. Tom brandished the captured scorpion in victory from atop her tipped-over couch. She sighed in relief.
“Alright, Bertha, I’m gonna go hand this trespasser off to the Nooklings, so he won’t be bothering you anymore. Take care now!”
Bertha called out her thanks as he headed out. “I must’ve heard it moving around last night, and I guess it made it into my dreams…” she murmured to herself. Just to be safe, she glanced under her bed for any other unwanted guests before making breakfast.
She wanted to thank their representative again for her lovely gift, but no one had seen him all day. ‘I’m sure he’s fine. I’ll just thank him tomorrow.’ Night had fallen again, and her mind couldn’t help but wander back to the scorpion. She checked around her bed (and even under her pillow) just to be safe, then wound up her music box. With nothing but a peaceful lullaby and warm thoughts of a new friend in her head, the night would surely be kinder to her.
An uncomfortable heat and bright light roused her from her slumber. The sounds of K.K. Lullaby were replaced with crackling and snapping, and as Bertha opened her eyes, she was overcome with horror.
Her home was engulfed in flames.
Fire cut across the carpet in front of her as she tried to run to her door. She spun around, looking for another way out, but the thick smoke made it hard to see anything. She heard panicked voices outside and tried to call for help, but her lungs only filled with more smoke. She fell to her knees, coughing, desperately trying to get enough air to just call out to them…
She gasped and was suddenly back in her normal room. In fact, she was still in bed. ‘...Another dream?’ The only bright light was the sun shining through her window, and the air… smelt a little like smoke.
Now fully awake, she looked for the source of the smell. There on her coffee table was a fallen candle, still lit, the wood beneath it blackening. Grabbing her pillow, she dove for her table. Smothered by the pillow and the weight of a hippopotamus, the small fire died instantly.
“This is… getting kinda weird now…” she whimpered.
Before she knew it, she was standing outside their representative’s door. She didn’t want to seem unappreciative, but...
Hesitantly, she knocked.
No response.
She tried a few more times to no avail. ‘He’s probably just out somewhere. I’ll run into him at some point.’
…No one saw him that day either.
Now when she looked at her music box, she could only think of fire and scorpions. ‘I’m probably being silly, but… I think I won’t listen to it tonight.’ Leaving the box untouched, she let the crickets outside sing her to sleep.
It was still dark when she awoke from a dreamless slumber. Louder than the crickets outside was the soft melody of the music box. She slammed the lid shut, and the familiar lullaby it played for her was cut short.
“Okay, there’s no way I’m sleeping near this thing anymore!” Bertha shoved the music box into her bag and ran outside. She knocked on their representative’s door again and again, but only silence answered her.
Her chest tight with panic, she hurried to Tom’s house and banged on his door. Immediately there was a startled yelp from inside, followed by faint grumbling and the sound of an object crashing to the floor. Tom angrily muttered something she couldn’t make out. Finally, the door opened. “Urgh… what is it?” he grumbled and rubbed his eyes.
“I-I think my music box is cursed… my nightmares keep coming true, and I wasn’t going to listen to it tonight, but it started playing by itself, and…” Tears welled up in her eyes as she continued, until she couldn’t take it anymore and broke down sobbing. Tom looked panicked.
“Agh, stop cryin’, it’s okay, it’s okay—we’ll figure something out, okay?!”
A cup of tea later, Bertha felt calmer and began to discuss the music box with Tom again.
“Gaah, I don’t remember what you’re supposed to do with cursed objects… burn ‘em? Hit ‘em with an axe a buncha times? …Or is that just gonna release whatever’s in this thing?” Tom eyed the music box, now sitting on his table, with suspicion.
“Wh-what are we gonna do?” Bertha whimpered.
Tom took a deep breath. “Okay, I’m gonna stay up with this thing and make sure it doesn’t try anything funny. You’re going to go home and get some sleep. Assumin’ you don’t have any more weird dreams—and if you do, call me, or Isabelle, anybody—then we’re gonna take it to Katrina first thing in the morning and ask her what to do.”
“O-okay,” Bertha set the cup down and started to leave, “be careful, Tom.”
“Don’t you worry about me, kiddo! Ain’t no way I’m gonna lose to some dinky little music box in a fight.”
Her walk home was uneventful despite her fears. She crawled back into bed, pulled the covers over her, and closed her eyes again. Though her mind was full of worries, all of it was soon enveloped in a lilac mist and a soothing scent.
Bertha woke up somewhere else, somewhere hazy beneath a sky full of stars. An elegant and oddly familiar tapir stood nearby. Though Bertha felt like she knew her from somewhere, she couldn’t remember from where exactly.
“Welcome back, Bertha. I was beginning to worry—you have not visited the dream world in a few nights. I hope you are not neglecting sleep,” Luna says.
“Um, your name is… Luna, right?” Bertha asked based on a feeling, and the tapir nodded. “I’ve been sleeping, but I keep having nightmares that manifest in real life. I think it’s because of this music box someone gave me…”
“I see… if your dreams are not truly your own, that would explain why I have not seen you here. Would you like my assistance? If you visit this music box here with me in your dreams, I would be happy to consume the source of these nightmares.”
Bertha didn’t entirely understand what she meant, but didn’t question it further. “If you don’t mind, then… please.”
“Very well. Please allow your thoughts to focus on the music box… what it means to you… where you last left it…” Luna’s voice sounded farther and farther away, and Bertha closed her eyes.
When she opened them a moment later, they were in Tom’s house. “Huh–wha—Bertha? Luna?! Oh, don’t tell me I went and conked out after talkin’ all big…!” Tom began, but the music box interrupted him. Its lid opened, and a slow, distorted version of K.K. Lullaby began to play.
Luna smiled softly. “I will take things from here. The two of you may not remember this tomorrow… but you may rest assured that this music box will not trouble you again.”
Bertha’s surroundings faded around her, and the sound of the music box grew distant, until she was left in quiet darkness.
She woke up the next morning to birdsong and early morning light. She felt more rested than she had in days, and like before she received the music box, it had been a dreamless sleep. She got ready and went to see Tom.
The two of them stared down at the music box.
“Y’know… for some reason, it’s not creepin’ me out like it was yesterday,” Tom crossed his arms.
“Yeah, I get what you mean… the air around it feels lighter, almost.”
“…You still wanna take it to Katrina?”
“I know we probably should, but… I don’t know. It’s like… in my heart, I feel like it’s not necessary anymore.”
“Sooo… if the curse is broken now, d’you still want it?”
Bertha shook her head vigorously. “Oh heavens no.”
“Well, in that case…” Tom took the music box outside. He set it down in the grass a small distance away from his house, and pulled out his axe.
From then on, Bertha enjoyed peaceful, dreamless nights, just as she had before. Though she never got to ask their island representative why he gave her that music box… she had a bad feeling she already knew the answer.
She wasn’t really familiar with the subject (except from what she’d read in fantasy novels), but it seemed to her that meddling with curses would be a dangerous thing. She hoped their representative was okay, wherever he was, but…
…he never did show back up.
Like her, he was probably just shy, and struggled talking to new people. She was afraid she’d upset him somehow, but if he was mad at her, or hated her even, then there was no way he’d make a beautiful gift like this for her.
She set it down on her nightstand and carefully wound it before opening the lid. The gentle notes of K.K. Lullaby met her ears. It was already pretty late anyway—she grabbed a nice book and decided to wind down with it and her new music box (just for a little while) before she went to sleep.
She woke up in a cold sweat the next morning. ‘It was just a dream, just a dream—’ she reassured herself. She didn’t normally remember her dreams, but the thought of her dream-self being chased by a scorpion was still fresh in her mind. Her legs were so slow and so heavy, then she’d tripped, and—
Bertha shook her head and took a few deep breaths. As she exhaled, she heard a faint noise, like a series of light, rapid taps on the floor. She froze. The sound was so quiet she wasn’t sure she heard it at all, and it was silent now. ‘Relax, it’s just your nerves...’ She turned to hop out of bed only to hear the faint tapping again. It sounded like it was coming from underneath her.
Her heart raced again. Swallowing, she leaned over the edge of her bed, and there in the shadows was an even darker silhouette. She squinted, unable to make out exactly what it was.
The silhouette hissed, and now she could clearly make out the shape of pincers and a stinger raised menacingly.
She screamed and bolted upright, pulling her covers up to her face. ‘I need to get out of here, but I can’t get out of bed with it under there! What do I do?!’
Her answer came from her front door as her neighbor, Tom, flung it open. “Bertha?! What’s wrong?!”
“U-under my bed, there’s…!” she stammered, and right on cue, the scorpion skittered out into the open. Tom spotted it instantly and narrowed his eyes.
“Oh, so you wanna mess with my neighbor, huh, you little punk?!” Tom whipped out his net. Accepting his challenge, the scorpion hissed and charged. Bertha covered her eyes with a yelp, unable to watch. Furniture crashed, there was more hissing, and finally—"Gotcha, you creepy jerk!”
Bertha peeked out from between her hooves. Tom brandished the captured scorpion in victory from atop her tipped-over couch. She sighed in relief.
“Alright, Bertha, I’m gonna go hand this trespasser off to the Nooklings, so he won’t be bothering you anymore. Take care now!”
Bertha called out her thanks as he headed out. “I must’ve heard it moving around last night, and I guess it made it into my dreams…” she murmured to herself. Just to be safe, she glanced under her bed for any other unwanted guests before making breakfast.
She wanted to thank their representative again for her lovely gift, but no one had seen him all day. ‘I’m sure he’s fine. I’ll just thank him tomorrow.’ Night had fallen again, and her mind couldn’t help but wander back to the scorpion. She checked around her bed (and even under her pillow) just to be safe, then wound up her music box. With nothing but a peaceful lullaby and warm thoughts of a new friend in her head, the night would surely be kinder to her.
An uncomfortable heat and bright light roused her from her slumber. The sounds of K.K. Lullaby were replaced with crackling and snapping, and as Bertha opened her eyes, she was overcome with horror.
Her home was engulfed in flames.
Fire cut across the carpet in front of her as she tried to run to her door. She spun around, looking for another way out, but the thick smoke made it hard to see anything. She heard panicked voices outside and tried to call for help, but her lungs only filled with more smoke. She fell to her knees, coughing, desperately trying to get enough air to just call out to them…
She gasped and was suddenly back in her normal room. In fact, she was still in bed. ‘...Another dream?’ The only bright light was the sun shining through her window, and the air… smelt a little like smoke.
Now fully awake, she looked for the source of the smell. There on her coffee table was a fallen candle, still lit, the wood beneath it blackening. Grabbing her pillow, she dove for her table. Smothered by the pillow and the weight of a hippopotamus, the small fire died instantly.
“This is… getting kinda weird now…” she whimpered.
Before she knew it, she was standing outside their representative’s door. She didn’t want to seem unappreciative, but...
Hesitantly, she knocked.
No response.
She tried a few more times to no avail. ‘He’s probably just out somewhere. I’ll run into him at some point.’
…No one saw him that day either.
Now when she looked at her music box, she could only think of fire and scorpions. ‘I’m probably being silly, but… I think I won’t listen to it tonight.’ Leaving the box untouched, she let the crickets outside sing her to sleep.
It was still dark when she awoke from a dreamless slumber. Louder than the crickets outside was the soft melody of the music box. She slammed the lid shut, and the familiar lullaby it played for her was cut short.
“Okay, there’s no way I’m sleeping near this thing anymore!” Bertha shoved the music box into her bag and ran outside. She knocked on their representative’s door again and again, but only silence answered her.
Her chest tight with panic, she hurried to Tom’s house and banged on his door. Immediately there was a startled yelp from inside, followed by faint grumbling and the sound of an object crashing to the floor. Tom angrily muttered something she couldn’t make out. Finally, the door opened. “Urgh… what is it?” he grumbled and rubbed his eyes.
“I-I think my music box is cursed… my nightmares keep coming true, and I wasn’t going to listen to it tonight, but it started playing by itself, and…” Tears welled up in her eyes as she continued, until she couldn’t take it anymore and broke down sobbing. Tom looked panicked.
“Agh, stop cryin’, it’s okay, it’s okay—we’ll figure something out, okay?!”
A cup of tea later, Bertha felt calmer and began to discuss the music box with Tom again.
“Gaah, I don’t remember what you’re supposed to do with cursed objects… burn ‘em? Hit ‘em with an axe a buncha times? …Or is that just gonna release whatever’s in this thing?” Tom eyed the music box, now sitting on his table, with suspicion.
“Wh-what are we gonna do?” Bertha whimpered.
Tom took a deep breath. “Okay, I’m gonna stay up with this thing and make sure it doesn’t try anything funny. You’re going to go home and get some sleep. Assumin’ you don’t have any more weird dreams—and if you do, call me, or Isabelle, anybody—then we’re gonna take it to Katrina first thing in the morning and ask her what to do.”
“O-okay,” Bertha set the cup down and started to leave, “be careful, Tom.”
“Don’t you worry about me, kiddo! Ain’t no way I’m gonna lose to some dinky little music box in a fight.”
Her walk home was uneventful despite her fears. She crawled back into bed, pulled the covers over her, and closed her eyes again. Though her mind was full of worries, all of it was soon enveloped in a lilac mist and a soothing scent.
Bertha woke up somewhere else, somewhere hazy beneath a sky full of stars. An elegant and oddly familiar tapir stood nearby. Though Bertha felt like she knew her from somewhere, she couldn’t remember from where exactly.
“Welcome back, Bertha. I was beginning to worry—you have not visited the dream world in a few nights. I hope you are not neglecting sleep,” Luna says.
“Um, your name is… Luna, right?” Bertha asked based on a feeling, and the tapir nodded. “I’ve been sleeping, but I keep having nightmares that manifest in real life. I think it’s because of this music box someone gave me…”
“I see… if your dreams are not truly your own, that would explain why I have not seen you here. Would you like my assistance? If you visit this music box here with me in your dreams, I would be happy to consume the source of these nightmares.”
Bertha didn’t entirely understand what she meant, but didn’t question it further. “If you don’t mind, then… please.”
“Very well. Please allow your thoughts to focus on the music box… what it means to you… where you last left it…” Luna’s voice sounded farther and farther away, and Bertha closed her eyes.
When she opened them a moment later, they were in Tom’s house. “Huh–wha—Bertha? Luna?! Oh, don’t tell me I went and conked out after talkin’ all big…!” Tom began, but the music box interrupted him. Its lid opened, and a slow, distorted version of K.K. Lullaby began to play.
Luna smiled softly. “I will take things from here. The two of you may not remember this tomorrow… but you may rest assured that this music box will not trouble you again.”
Bertha’s surroundings faded around her, and the sound of the music box grew distant, until she was left in quiet darkness.
She woke up the next morning to birdsong and early morning light. She felt more rested than she had in days, and like before she received the music box, it had been a dreamless sleep. She got ready and went to see Tom.
The two of them stared down at the music box.
“Y’know… for some reason, it’s not creepin’ me out like it was yesterday,” Tom crossed his arms.
“Yeah, I get what you mean… the air around it feels lighter, almost.”
“…You still wanna take it to Katrina?”
“I know we probably should, but… I don’t know. It’s like… in my heart, I feel like it’s not necessary anymore.”
“Sooo… if the curse is broken now, d’you still want it?”
Bertha shook her head vigorously. “Oh heavens no.”
“Well, in that case…” Tom took the music box outside. He set it down in the grass a small distance away from his house, and pulled out his axe.
From then on, Bertha enjoyed peaceful, dreamless nights, just as she had before. Though she never got to ask their island representative why he gave her that music box… she had a bad feeling she already knew the answer.
She wasn’t really familiar with the subject (except from what she’d read in fantasy novels), but it seemed to her that meddling with curses would be a dangerous thing. She hoped their representative was okay, wherever he was, but…
…he never did show back up.