lady and mistress

It was just about ten o'clock, around the time when the dreams where supposed to be delivered. A gentle, cold breeze slipped through the window that wasn't opened when Jack had gone to sleep. There was a hint of gold in the breeze, and slowly, the breeze swirled into the ghostly shape of a woman with short blonde hair.
The Lady of Dreams had visited Malloy's Home for Boys several times, but she'd never been given a dream meant for Jack Stoner. In fact, she'd never delivered such a strange dream.
It was about a girl she'd visited quite often, named Celtse, on her first day of school. It was her entire first day, up until she went to sleep. The Lady of Dreams had a feeling that the dream would come true (for most of the dreams she delivered to the less fortunate, she liked to make true), but she also had a feeling that terrible things were coming Jack's way.
The Lady of Dreams sighed and shook away the thought; she had to get to work delivering dreams. She looked from one bunk to the other until she found Jack on the bottom bunk to the right. She reached in her bag and retrieved a book. She leafed through the pages until she got to the page with the dream destined to be Jack Stoner's.
She leaned down next to his ear, and ever so quietly, whispered the story of the dream to him. There was a hint of gold in the air as she spoke. When she was done, she closed the book and placed it back in the bag. She turned, giving one last look at Jack before fading into the golden wind, to deliver the other dreams for that night. On her way out, she gently closed the window.
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Not long after that, a hard, freezing wind billowed through the curtains of Celtse's room, a window that Celtse wasn't allowed to sleep with it open. There was a purple glow about the wind, and in a jagged, rushed way, it took the ghostly shape of a woman, with pale grey skin and long black hair. A purple cloak was draped over her shoulders as she looked around the room with disgust.
The Mistress of Nightmares rarely visited this home. She hated to see people who were rich and well-to-do. She never wasted her time with them; she'd let her sister take care of them.
She loved the nightmare she was delivering that night. It had a boy she visited very often, practically nightly. His name was Jack, and he'd been adopted by a family at last. But they abused him, almost like a slave. She didn't understand, however, why she was giving it to this Celtse girl.
Eager to read the nightmare, the Mistress of Nightmares pulled a book from her cloak. She loomed over Celtse's bed and read aloud the nightmare. A purple tint was in the air as she spoke. When she was done, she let out a snicker. That nightmare would terrify Celtse. What fun.
The Mistress of Nightmares slammed the book shut, put it away in her cloak and flew out of the window, blowing it open even wider than it was before.