Trixie rolled over in her bed, the previous night’s dream still pricking at her mind. To her recollection, the dream had been a silly one. She wasn’t even sure who had been in her dream. But she did remember feeling happy and free. She also knew that there had been a man in her dream that made her feel complete. Trixie frowned as she tried to recollect who it was. She blew an errant curl off her forehead as she tried to convince herself that the mystery man was Jim, but her subconscious wouldn’t let her settle on that. She squeezed her eyes tightly as she tried to remember what was going on in her dream. She suddenly opened them as she recalled that in her dream she had been sitting in a bar, laughing and dancing, with no ties holding her down, no place she had to be, and no person waiting for her. Trixie shook her head and rose out of her bed. She padded over to her mirror and stared at the young woman looking back at her. She wandered over to her bedroom window and gazed out of it, but saw nothing. Why did she feel happier in her dream than awake in her life. And suddenly, she knew. She knew what the dream was about. Her dream showed her freedom from expectations and duty. She realized that she didn’t want to be tied to Jim’s dream of a year round school for orphaned boys. She didn’t want to have to live every single day being an ultimate role model. She didn’t want to have to worry about what the students were doing. She didn’t want her days planned out for her. She wanted to live for herself and travel her own path.

"Am I being selfish?" she whispered to herself. "Or worse, am I being crazy?"

But once Trixie had faced the truth, she knew that she couldn’t go back. She couldn’t return to the mind set where she believed, with her whole heart, that helping Jim build and run his school would make her happy. There was nothing wrong with Jim’s dream. In fact, it was decent, honorable and noble. But it was Jim’s dream, not Trixie’s. Trixie sighed as dug through her bedding in search of her sweatshirt. How could one dream pivot her life so completely? But it had. And on that particular morning, Trixie knew that she could and would help Jim with his dream, but she would not own it. She had her own dream to possess; her own reality to create. Trixie finally found her sweatshirt under her rumpled quilt. She pulled it over her tousled curls and slid her arms into the sleeves. As she left her bedroom, the door snicked quietly behind her.