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The Nightmares That Plague Me

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Summary

(First draft, not yet edited) Nightmares don't have to mean anything, right? What is it about them? That terrifies us so much. Things I was never afraid of, never even thought of, now won't leave me alone. It's not just the second it takes for you to realize where you are when you wake up. Has a dream ever made you so paranoid that you feel as though it may not have been a dream after all?

Status
7yrs ago
Chapters
4
Rating
n/a
Age Rating
16+

Chapter 1

My window starts 6 feet off the ground. There might be some people who can still peek in at the very bottom, just barely. But how do you explain the ones whose heads get cut off a bit by the top of the window? The ones that have to be at least ten feet tall to do that?

Reoccurring dreams are weird. Even weirder when it's just a certain person. I don't dream. I never wake up and think 'what a nice dream, I wish I was still asleep.' I guess my subconscious just can't imagine a good dream.

I have nightmares surprisingly often for someone who isn't afraid of much. But some of them leave more of an impact than others.

There have only been three times in my life where I couldn't shake a dream or its possible meaning. One when I was small, A gorilla on a unicycle would come and kidnap me while I was asleep. I had the dream every night for a year, I don't know why.

The second was much different. Setting the scene; Enter winding hills of Greece or Italy or somewhere with villas lining the road. There was a car, presumably mine, that I was looking through for something. I looked up at the sky. No stars, no clouds, no sun or moon. Blank, unforgiving blackness. It was as if the whole dream was an undone movie set.

A guy stood in his front yard, two girls rode around on tricycles. "You need to leave, now," I said to the guy. He pulled his hand to his ear like he couldn't hear me.

"Leave, now! It's coming." He turned and went into his house. One of the girls went by my car. I grabbed her by her throat and threw her against the car, holding her tightly.

She had no face. It was like she had a face covered by another layer of skin. The outline of her mouth, her nose, nothing definitive. "I know you." She smiled as I said it.

"Where do I know you from."

"I know you! Where do I know you from! Why do I know you!" Panic sat like a brick in my stomach. Then black.

Dreams end and you wake up. But what if they end and it takes a couple of seconds? Have your dreams ever gone black at the end and you are just stuck, asleep in a dream of nothingness?

I woke up after a couple of seconds, Feeling as if a part of me was now gone. I had the dream 3 times. I never knew who the girl was. I never knew what was coming, where I was, why it seemed to take a second of buffering before I woke up.

The third set of dreams has left the biggest mark. I used to joke that I talked to the void during the second dream. But the third, the third convinced me that it wasn't a joke.

A friend hanging off a cliff. I try to pull them up but can't. I look up and there is my window, a person standing there and staring at me. A person at least 10 feet tall. More of a shadow than a person really, bearly standing out from the darkness behind.

I look back down and continue to try to pull my friend up. I didn't manage to, but I don't remember them falling either. I look up again and three of the 10-foot-tall people stand surrounding my window.

They don't have eyes but I know they are staring and I know, More are coming. And then I wake up.

The only reoccurring part this time is the guy. At first, I was just scared in my dream. Waking up with the fear of having a nightmare, it fading as I realize its all a dream.

But now its more than that. Paranoia. I find myself glancing at the window, making sure no one is looking in. I see him in the corner of my eye, but looking back he isn't there.

The third night I had the dream was the worst. I was in the kitchen looking for a snack, its close to two in the morning. I hear the door behind me creak open. I see him in the corner of my eye. I run, headed back towards my room.

He follows. He's fast, very fast. But I make it to my room, slamming the door. Right before I do his hand slithers through the small crack, his fingers being closed in the door.

They stop moving for a second, as if in shock. Then the fingers curl and scratch at the door. I stand, heart pounding as paint peels under his nails. His fingers start to bleed, streaking the door, and then he slowly snakes them back out.

I collapse against the door, trying to catch my breath. And then I wake up.

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