Dreams Never Lie

This is just a doodle, but now that I think about it, it could probably serve as the start to a fantasy story...
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It was one of those days. A day where lights were supposed to guide you home, and yet all you could see was crouching darkness. Ashley fumbled in her bag pack for a torch, groping around blindly past the loose sheets crowding around in there. No torch. She groaned.

"Shit," she whispered under her breath, pulling her hand out sharply and putting her finger into her mouth. She sucked on it. Of all the moments in the world to get a damn paper cut! She shifted her weight, and suddenly, the floor creaked and swayed. She froze, her heart suddenly thumping like a rabbit's foot. The creaking slowed down, and eventually, the floor stopped rocking.

"Gently now," she said. She allowed herself to exhale, and her breath shuddered softly as she let it out. "No sudden movements." She felt around again for her bag, slowly extending her fingers in front of her until they closed around the soft canvas. She pulled it towards her. "Please Uncle Tom, if you love me and you can hear me, let me find the flashlight before the whole treehouse falls to the ground!"

As if hearing her, the wind sighed outside, almost teasingly, reminding her quietly that it could topple the tree house with one lungful of air. She began searching the compartments of the bag again, caressing her fingers against its nooks and crannies. The leaves of the tree rustled, softly whispering against the bark of the tree. Ashley looked at the starlight outside the window of the treehouse as her hands did their work. She wished to high heaven she were in open air right now, instead of sitting three stories high in pitch darkness. She tried to imagine what Aunt Emily had simmering merrily on the stove. It was probably pot roast. Thursdays were always pot roast, except last Thursday, when the butcher was having a meat shortage, and Aunt Emily had wound up cooking beans and mashed potatoes. Ashley had wondered how on earth the butcher could have run out of beef. Had all the nearby cows gone on vacation or something?

"Got it!" She whispered excitedly, her fingers closing in around the cold plastic shaft. She turned it on with a click, and suddenly the whole hut erupted into a dull halogen glow.

The wind was getting stronger now, and Ashley heard the soft patter of raindrops falling against the roof of the treehouse. The roof wouldn't last very long...it was made of thatches of hay that hadn't been replaced in ages. Ashley knew she should get her rear end out of there before the wood started getting soggy. But she also knew she wouldn't leave...couldn't leave...until she had found what she was looking for.

She and Sam had built the treehouse years ago with Uncle Tom, but both of them had stopped playing in it after Uncle Tom died. The treehouse reminded her of Uncle Tom too much, and besides, Sam started telling her stories of how Uncle Tom's ghost had moved into the treehouse after he'd died. He claimed he had heard Uncle Tom humming his favorite tune in there, and one day, he'd even smelt tobacco, the same kind Uncle Tom used to smoke in his pipe. She knew Sam was lying, and even if Uncle Tom's ghost had come back, well, it wouldn't hurt her now would it? She was Uncle Tom's little girl, after all. Even so, she came to the treehouse less and less frequently after that. It was no fun without Uncle Tom. One day, she stopped coming all together.

Until now.

Ashley swivelled the beam of her flashlight around. Outside, a fresh peal of thunder boomed, and the rain started falling faster, smacking against the hut in sheets. She got up, knowing the treehouse was going to fall any minute now. "A little longer," she whispered. "It's got to be here! I know it does! Dreams never lie! It's got to be here!"

And suddenly, as she moved the light past a corner of the treehouse, something glittered there. Barely able to contain herself, she moved slowly, almost cat-like towards it. The treehouse started groaning again, but she pressed on, her lips whispering a verse from the Bible that Aunt Emily had taught her as a child. Finally, she reached the corner, and lifted the object to her eyes. At first, she was unable to believe what she was seeing. And then, a tear rolled down her face. A happy, joyous tear.

"Dreams never lie, do they, Uncle Tom?" She said, and her voice was soft with love and remembrance. "You can hear me, can't you? I found your lost ring! After all these years, I found your lost ring! And you showed me where it was!"

She got up and slowly walked to the door of the house, carefully climbing onto the rope ladder. On her way down, she paused, and looked into the black mouth of the treehouse. "I'm going to go home now Uncle Tom," she said firmly. "I'm going to go home and sleep, and you'd better come back to me in a dream!" Her face was drenched in a mixture of rain and tears, and her voice broke as she said, "You'd better come back, because I miss you so much!"

She looked down and started descending the ladder. The treehouse groaned and creaked again, and then fell into a hushed silence.