A Dream…

You stand up. The sky is black, no stars will light your path tonight. The Moon is nowhere to be seen. But you know it is night time.

You take in your surroundings. You are standing in the car park of your old school, but there are no cars. You call out for anybody who could be there. There is no one. You search your pockets. There is only a blank white piece of paper. You think it is photograph paper, but you’re not sure. Your hand feels slightly numb.

Why don’t you have your phone? You always have your phone. Why don’t you have your phone?

With a sudden sense of loathing, you start up the hill, walking up the road to your school’s main building.

You reach the upper car park. This one for the teachers and various staff. Again, there are no cars. To your right is the gate. But you hear no cars, and you know better than to walk to the nearby town at this time of night. You walk left, towards the front doors of the school. You know they will be locked, they are always locked. But maybe you can get one of the security guards’ attention. You move to the door and peer into the darkness. Someone moves inside. You knock on the glass door, but they do not hear you. You lean in closer and the door slides open.

Why wasn’t it locked? It’s always locked. Why wasn’t it locked?

You continue in, walking up the stairs. You know that the guards will be in the teachers’ lounge. It is warm in there. You reach the top floor. Someone moves to your left, from the Study Hall. It is too dark to see clearly. But you know there is someone watching you. You call out. No one answers you.

So you move on. Your path is set and you move towards the Teachers’ Lounge. Behind you, there is a scratching on the floor. Like someone is carrying chains whcih drag along the ground. You turn, but there is no one there. You carry on.

You pass the classrooms that line the left hand side of the hall. Inside you can see people praying. In each one, a single person stands at the whiteboard, still, monolithic. Their heads are all bowed. The dragging chains continue.

Why are they here? It’s too late to be the study group. Why are they here?

You reach the Teachers’ Lounge and push on the door. It slides open without resistance.

The room is pitch black. But there is someone there.

“Hello?” you say. “Is someone there? I need to use your phone.”

The figure turns. Even in the darkness, you see a gleaming white smile.

“Have you come to wake up?”

Why would he ask that? You are awake. Why would he ask that?

You turn to stare back down the corridor you have come from, now lit by candles. The prayers have left their classrooms and all stare at you. Their heads are bowed, you cannot see their faces. But you can see their scars. You turn to face the pitch black Lounge. The smiling man speaks again.

“How long before you accept what you are?”

You hear the chains again a second before they wrap around your throat and pull you back. You spin and catch a glimpse of something barely human. Its face is missing pieces, its eyelids, its lips. It impales you with what should be a hand, but isn’t. You fall backwards, choking, bleeding. The smiling man stands over you, but your vision is fading. You cannot see his face. Only his smile.

Why didn’t you force yourself awake? You always die in your dreams. Why didn’t you force yourself awake?

One Response to “A Dream…”

1. Broke and other useless comments | Revelations: Zero says:

   August 14, 2009 at 10:47 pm

   [...] a lot more personal stuff to write about, as well as fuel for any stories I decide to write. Like this one. I enjoy dabbling in the creative writing arena. As I’ve said before I’m working on [...]

   Reply