I awoke from my nightmare. Wiping the cold sweat from my forehead I bent over. This wasn’t the first time this had happened and I was sure it wasn’t the last. The dream took place somewhere in a city but it wasn’t the present time of 2009, with metallic buildings that reach to the skies. No these were dark buildings, no color what so ever .Nothing had color they were all outlined as if they were silhouettes ,I herd screams not knowing how to help or even what they ment.I looked to my clock 1:36 .I moaned and shut my eyes, anticipating the return of my unintelligible dream. The next morning I examined my face in the mirror. The purple/black circles under my eyes revealed I hadn’t been sleeping. My family interrogated me, probably guessing signs of sleep deprivation. Wondering if they should call a doctor, I assured them it was just late hours getting my school work completed. A little lie wouldn’t hurt them and if my mother, being the superstitious one she is, would probably make me go to a physcic.Since it was Saturday and nothing else was on the agenda for me I decided to get through my attic and do a little overhaul work. I jogged up the steppes and flicked on the light, grabbed an old box looking as if it held pictures and sat down. I grabbed the first picture my hands could find. A family picture, me my mom, father, sister, and my late grandmother. After that box I lifted a hidden latch, one I’ve never realized was in my attic, reached in and grabbed a frame. The frame held a picture and much to my amazement, the picture was the black outline of women, a silhouette. Suddenly a flashback from my dream the night before hit me. I had seen this woman before. I had seen that haunting black outline somewhere in my strange nightmare. I gently pulled the picture from its frame, there was only 2 letters printed in a neat script on the back. An S.C, arranged in the fashion a persons initials would be arranged. Could this woman, this lost silhouette be trying to contact me? OR was I crazy because I was suffering from sleep deprivation. Ironic was the only way to sum up that experience. After finding the picture I demanded my mother to tell me everything she knew about the secret latch and the box of almost ancient pictures and the strangest, why the silhouette in this picture had my initials. She assured me that one day she was just packing things in the attic, found the surplus space and stuffed a box of “old garage sale junk you’re aunt got” in there. And the silhouette having my initials was just pure irony. I believed her all the way up until that night when my nightmare occurred once again. This time the city street was quiet no one there except me. Then out of an ally way I see a women almost becoming familiar, as the ironic lost silhouette, looked as if she was beconing to me .I couldn’t see anything except black and white, pure silhouette fashion. But somehow it seemed she knew me and I knew her like we had met somewhere ,maybe a glance or a quick hello ,but I knew this woman I really knew her. She didn’t look surprised that I felt this way, because she knew me it was kind of as if we were the same person .I moved she expected it, she moved and I expected it. I had heard my mother speak of past lives before, I never gave it thought until now. What if I was this woman, what if she had my initials because she was me at some point in time? I watched the women nod, like she had answered my unsaid question. Suddenly my eyes flew open and the dream, the women, the silhouettes were gone, swept away with the blink of my eyes. Later that day I did some research on the era of silhouettes, I found out that past life me was alive in the 1920s and 30s that’s probably when my dream took place to. Well I had decoded most of my past reality, I just didn’t know why. Why now, is something going to happen, something I should prepare for? Or did I without even knowing it have questions that my past life answered? These sinarios seemed to movie like to be true. But what if they were? For once I went with my gut, something I never did. I accepted the sinario that this lost silhouette was me and she had been there all along but I had never opened my eyes with a clear head and looked. Once I let myself admit this my nights were peaceful no more haunting buildings, frightening flashbacks, and not even one lost silhouette.