When he had first started having the strange dreams, Joshua was only 13 years old, still unsure about girls and things alike, not quite sure of anything except for maybe his love for soccer and his new guitar.

It’s fuzzy, but he remembers dreaming the same dream even then. Tall trees, crooked from the years of wind pushing them restlessly, rocks and bushes pushed up against each other in the complicatedly simple way nature seems to do things. He recalls hearing the trickle of a river, becoming more and more deafening the closer he seemed to get to it. It’s maybe why he never realized that even though he seemed to be in the middle of the forest, he never heard any noise aside from the river. The eerie silence never bothered him until one day, as he went closer to the river, he heard the peaceful notes of a harp, piercing against the quiet of the forest.

Walking closer he realized that the notes really were coming from a harp, a harp being played from a young boy. Clad in all white with the tips of his shirt touching the floor, sharply contrasting in his brilliant white against the dark browns and greens of the forest. Noticing the other's eyes closed in concentration, Joshua tried to call out to the boy, and after a few seconds finally had the boy look up. However, he soon realized that it probably wasn’t the right thing to do because as soon as the boy saw him, his fingers stilled, the harp’s harsh endnote blaringly loud even with the river in between them.

In seconds the mysterious boy in white had disappeared leaving just the harp and the questions in the tip of Joshua’s tongue.

The next time Joshua had the dream, he heard the same alluring sounds of the harp. And again, he walked closer to the sound, set on talking to the boy who was the cause of it. When he reached the clearing, however, he decided to instead hide behind a rock and listen. For hours and hours he sat there, quiet and unmoving so as not to disturb or scare the boy like he had done before. Choosing to instead just listen to him play.

‘The Dream’, as Joshua had started to call it one day, was constant throughout his younger teen years, however, as soon as he hit 20, the dreams, along with the boy and his harp started to get more and more scarce. And by 22, he just about stopped having them. It pained him at first, to not be able to hear the sweet notes of the harp or even sneak peeks of the mysterious boy who seemed to grow with him, but eventually he started to learn to just deal with it and continue to live his life as normal.

Until one day, after accidentally losing himself from the rest of the tour of a forest during his vacation in China did Joshua remember the strange dreams he used to have. The deeper he went into the forest the more he was reminded of the unchanging forest of his dreams. As he walked, he also realized that like in his dreams, the sounds of the forest started to cease, and to his wonder, he started to hear sound of a river, along with the distinct sound of a harp being played.

Stumbling to a stop by the edge of the river Joshua stutters a call, hoping to see the boy of his dreams again. And almost immediately the sound of the harp ceases. Gazing into the river edge he sees a lone harp and next to it, the boy, his awe-filled stare mirroring his own.

In that moment the only thing running across both of their minds is, it’s true, it’s really true.