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The Dreams -a short story |
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It was a dark and stormy night and there were several people walking in a group down a street where there was only one street lamp/ light that worked. Some were yelling randomly and some were swaying to music that only they could hear. From the people outside the group, it looked like they were drunk and needed some special attention and/ or help.
A teenage male entered the vicinity of the drunken people where the light was. He had semi-short, shaggy dark brown hair. His vibrant green eyes were paled by the fact that it was nighttime and there was barely any light.
Frank carefully dodged the strange people and continued his journey home. He was used to seeing this. In fact, he saw this everyday he walked home and it didn’t scare him in the least. He had seen things like this since they day he moved into his house, in this neighborhood, three years ago. At school, it was worse than his streets at night. Sometimes, at his school, he barely survived.
Frank lodged his hands deeper into his pockets as he directed his gaze downward, at the crumbling sidewalk beneath his boots. He sighed heavily as he tried to divert his attention from the sound of his stomach grumbling to his reddened ears. Frank pulled his hands out of pockets to allow a quick glimpse at them before he stuffed them back into his pockets…
It had been a strenuous day at the carpet factory, in which Frank worked at. Orders had been coming in by the dozens from overseas and many employees had been let go in order to keep up with the new regulations put in place by the company’s European counterpart. Frank knew it was getting closer and closer to the end of the Carpet Factory for him, though, Frank hated to admit it. Between his rather odd school and his demon-like neighbors, Frank felt like his job was his escape from everything else. As he sat in his office and counted down the seconds to take his mind off reality, the door behind him flew open to show Frank his boss, of course.
Frank knew what would happen as soon as the door swung open. He knew his escape from his depressing life was at a close. A chill went up his spine. The question, “What would a gun barrel taste like to my boss?” ran through his mind. This plot was his new escape, his means of survival through his wretched town. Luckily, for him, he had brought his gun with him to rid himself, and the world, of his b*****d of a boss. Should I continue my actions? He had finally found his comfort in this cruel world. His boss was on the floor with a bullet-hole in between his eyes. The sight of his boss on the floor should have scared him so bad, but instead he smiled a demonic smile…
I jerked awake at the sound of two things: my screaming and my alarm clock, which was blaring at me. My elder sister came in, breathing hard. From the looks of her, she had run in here.
“What about Frank?” My sister breathed out.
“What about my ex-boyfriend?” I asked.
“Well, you were screaming his name loud enough. Mom and I thought you were being raped or kidnapped, or something!” My sister said in an exasperated voice.
“Was I really? Well that’s stra----” In that moment of speaking, every single scene of the dream I just had ran through my head.
“Damn! I can’t believe I dreamed about him.” I said silently. “I haven’t thought about him the six months we’ve been apart. How, the hell, did his face resurface in my dreams?” I said a bit louder.
My sister shrugged and walked out of my room so I could continue my routine in getting ready.
I stretched in a cat-like manner and rubbed my eyes to wake me up. As I slowly got off of my bed, I yawned and smacked my alarm clock off. Boy, how that thing could get annoying.
I plucked a navy-blue T-shirt from my drawers and put it on quickly. I went to my closet and grabbed the hanger that held my dark blue jeans. I took the jeans off the hanger and flung the hanger into the nearest hamper. I put the jeans on and went out of my room to search for my favorite pair of shoes.
I looked under the tables in the kitchen, living room, and angel room. They weren’t there. I looked up at all the angels that my mom had collected over the years, thinking about where I could have put my shoes.
I ran back into in my room and dug into the semi-dirty closet. When I returned to my bed, I had a pair of new, but worn-looking black Etnies. I went to the drawer which held my socks and randomly pulled out a pair and put them on. After I put my socks on, I put my shoes on one by one, taking the time to tie the shoe so it fit perfectly on my foot.
Once I had my shoes on, I went into the bathroom and looked for my brush. When I had my brush, I began brushing my hair until it was fluffy enough that someone could use it as a pillow. I brushed my hair through once more, collected a bright blue hair band and began putting my hair up in a pony-tail. When my hair was up in the hair-tie, I looked at how my hair looked in the back. It was narrow at the top, from where I had tied it back, and as it flowed down to get wider until it reached just passed my shoulder blades.
I took a quick glance at my reflection before turning the light off and heading out of the bathroom. I went into the kitchen and took a seat at the oak wood dining table.
My mother set a plate of three thick, fluffy pancakes in front of me. My mouth watered just looking at them. I cut them into eatable pieces, and then dressed them in syrup.
I picked up my fork and stabbed the first piece that I saw. I shoved it into my mouth and rolled my eyes at how good it tasted.
Shortly after that first bite, I was finished. I looked up to my mom, from my seat, and contemplated on asking her for more, but I knew that if I did, I would keep on going and then I wouldn’t be on time for school. So, in exaggerated slowness, I stood up and pulled my back pack on.
I looked at my mom. “Thank you. The pancakes were unbelievably delicious.” I turned to my sister, who was to drive me to school today because my mom had to go to a meeting and didn’t have enough time to drop me off, and said, “Ready?”
She nodded, picked up her wallet and keys from the counter in front of her. She walked out the door and to her car.
I put down my backpack and got a coat out that was meant for the snow and/or cold. I pulled it on and, from what my friends told me, looked like an Eskimo with my hood up. My coat was knee-length and pitch black. The hood was lined with faux fox fur. It was also black.
As I yawned silently, I pulled on my ebony gloves that matched my coat perfectly.
I picked my backpack again, put it on my back, grabbed my lunch and headed out the door to see my sister in her car, all doors closed, and she was “singing” what I assumed was something like a rock-metal group singing Christmas songs, since her right hand was in a fist-like thing, except her index finger and pinky finger were up and she was banging her head like the people in the sing were probably doing when they sang it…
Since it was practically winter, there was an inadequate amount of snow spotted throughout the town as my sister made her way to my school to drop me off. As I had suspected, she had been listening to Christmas Metal songs. I sighed as my head began to ring slightly from the Noise, as I called it.
As my sister neared my school, I got my stuff ready, so I wouldn’t bother her with how slow I was normally. I didn’t feel like being shouted at for a second time this morning.
When my sister reached the school and pulled to a stop, I got out and slung my backpack on, grabbed my lunch, waved good-bye, said, “Thank you,” shut the door, and walked away.
I walked to my first class, opened the door, went to my seat, unloaded my stuff, and sat down. A few minutes later, class started and I started to doze off an hour into the class… I slapped myself, which caused people all around me to do a mix of reactions. Those reactions ranged from looking at me like I was an idiot to giggling and snickering.
I managed to stay awake for the rest of the 30 minutes when the teacher let us out.
As I headed to my last class before lunch, I met up with my friend. We talked and walked into our next class. I yawned, and then growled. How much I hated yawning, no one would ever know. I wish it never even existed.
Two minutes later, the teacher started the class, no matter that a lot of students would be late.
I tried to pay attention, I really did, but I kept dozing off, no matter how many times me or my friend, who sat near me, slapped or poked me…
I looked into the ocean of the beach as it was silently rolling on to the sand, and then noisily being pulled back into the bluish-green water. The smell was salty and begged me to go into the ocean. The seagulls were cawing above the water and sand, surrounding me with a field of noise. I opened my mouth ever-so-slightly and the wind immediately rushed into my mouth, drying it with the expertise only the wind could do. It tasted of the cold ocean-water that lightly sprayed and swayed with the help of the wind. The light blue of the sky reflected ominously on the water and as I continued to watch the ocean, as if it were an enemy, and saw the light layer of the clouds moving west with the wind.
My faded blue dress was moving to the left, as if it, too, wanted to follow the clouds and wind, but stayed in place on my body. Instead, I took a step forward, involuntarily, toward the ocean, moving slightly westward until my bare feet were in the cold, haunting ocean, which begged me to go further. A chill ran up my spine as the ocean-spray landed on my back, when I had turned to face west. This spray, also, made the hairs on my neck straighten. I stepped on something that felt rough. I slowly reached into the water and felt around for the object that I had stepped on. It had five, what seemed like, arms. I pulled it out and got a starfish.
I was reminded that this was a dream I have had several times before, that was based on a childhood memory, but this dream had turned out to be more fictional than that of the true memory.
Perhaps the sand underneath the ocean was the same as it was on the shore, which was a slight tawny color. Or, perhaps, it was a rich purple color that one only saw in dreams. And perhaps these seagulls were just noise on the wind rather than live animals…
I felt a hand on my back. I jumped, what felt like, out of my skin. No one else had ever participated in my dreams, even if they were a figment of my imagination. I preferred to be alone. The outside world was just too damn crowded sometimes…
I squeezed my hand shut, to find that I had, accidentally, dropped the starfish back where I had found it. As I silently turned around, I came face to face with my ex-boyfriend. I cocked my head at him, wondering how he had filtered into my dreams...Again…
The next conscious thing I knew was that the teacher had slammed the yard stick near my ear. It snapped under the immense pressure that the teacher had given it and it had flown back and slapped her. Hard.
People around the classroom started either giggling softly or going into fits or roars of laughter.
“Karma,” I heard some people say.
“What goes around comes around. Though, I certainly wasn’t expecting it to come back this fast..” the teacher mumbled and turned to walk back to her desk, rubbing her still-sore cheek.
“Anyway, don’t forget to study for the test and have a good weekend. Get outta here, kids.” She said, but under her breath she grumbled, “I won’t be trying that again anytime soon...”
I packed up my stuff, grabbed my lunch box, and headed out of the classroom and toward the place where my friends and I ate.
The rest of that day passed uneventfully.
I walked out of my last class and headed to my sister’s car. When I got there, I packed my stuff into the trunk of her car, then joined her in her car. I took the passenger and tried, blatantly, to ignore my sister’s weird taste in Christmas music.
By the time we were half way home, I was beginning to feel unexpectedly nervous. Then, all of a sudden, a car, almost literally, jumped out at us into my sister’s hood , shattering the glass.
I, immediately, pulled my knees to my chest, wrapped my arms around them, and ducked my head behind my knees, as I was jerked forward and the airbag exploded and hit my head, knocking me out…
I snapped awake and, since there was a window in front my bed, on the second floor, I peered out of it and realized there was a figure staring back at me. I studied it closely, gasping when I finally realized it was Frank... for the third time, except this time it wasn’t a dream.
He smiled at me and it wasn’t his usual, ‘I’m happy to see you’ smile. This one was somewhat odd. The feeling I got was, ‘I’m going to have fun haunting you and killing you.’ So, it was homicidal, or demonic, smile.
I woke up, for the last time, I hope, in a heavenly white room, thinking, for a second, that I had died. Then, I noticed faces peering in on me.
“Oh, thank god!” My mother exclaimed. My mother had puffy, red eyes. My father’s shirt had a wet spot on it in his right shoulder... It looked like she had been crying into Dad’s shoulder.
I blinked drowsily and looked up at them. “What happened, Mom, Dad?”
“We thought you were dead…” My father said.
My mother nodded. “There was a hole in your chest, and it just barely missed your heart, Honey. Luckily, we got you to the hospital in time. Do you know who would want to do this to you?”
I shook my head. “How long has it been?”
“One week. And we were with you all the way, Dear.” My father answered this time.
I nodded. “Ok. When do I get out of here?”
“Well, since you’re awake, we can try and get you out later tonight or tomorrow morning.”
"Ok. I feel like I didn’t get any sleep at all. I will take a small nap and let me know when we are leaving, or if the doctor needs me, ’kay?”
They nodded and left the room.
That next morning, I was in the car on my way home, hoping that something like that would never, ever happen again…
To be continued...for sure…
P.S. let me know what you think ;P
 Sphynxy-Ookami Goddess · Sat Dec 15, 2007 @ 01:43am · 0 Comments |
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