[wp]You have a special ability. Each night your dream predicts a stranger's tomorrow. Last night you had a nightmare.
Posted Jul 30, 2016, 10:28 PM UTC
14
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1
"Honey? What's wrong?"
The room is spinning and I'm covered in sweat. After a moment, I gather my thoughts. I'm in my room. My fiancee, Jessica, is next to me. It was just a nightmare. Just a nightmare.
I throw the covers off of me and immediately begin to bolt the door.
"Jack? Please, listen to me..."
A nightmare.
I had to gather my thoughts quickly. What was the thing that I heard about? 90% of a dream disappears from memory within 10 minutes? I didn't have time. Either I was going to remember the specifics, or I was going to use all of my time working with whatever was fresh in my mind.
The pattern started twelve years ago. At least, that's when I noticed it. As a child I always dreamt vividly. It was always about people. People I never recognized. Sometimes they were nice dreams. People falling in love. Reuniting. Sometimes they were not so nice. Sometimes the people were running-- who they were running from or where they were running to-- I never found out. My dreams always ended so early. After ignoring these dreams throughout my childhood and teenage years, I entered my early twenties as many people did: with aspirations and a ton of debt. I began paying attention to the news more often when I was looking for job applications and even any kind of paying internship. That's when I noticed the pattern. Faces looked far too familiar to just be coincidence. Live recordings of car accidents, lottery winners, and public proposals were already in my memory--usually from the dream I had the night before. I tried describing my experiences to close friends, but all suggested that I might've had some kind of childhood issue that I needed to resolve. So I went to therapy, where I was sent to doctor after doctor until my medicine cabinet was filled. But tolerance is a funny thing. After this many years I shouldn't be shocked to start remembering my dreams again.
I glance at the clock. 1:52 AM. Who knows how much time I have? I should barricade the door. I lean into my dresser, easily pushing it on top of the rest of the furniture. Scratch marks are already etched into the floor. Jessica is speaking, but her words are inaudible. 4:08 AM. I need some kind of weapon. I dig into the closet, but all I find is a bat. Where's my gun?
"Jack, this is the fourth time you've woken up..."
My memory of the dream is fading. What happened exactly? I saw my room. The curtains that Jessica insisted on buying. The paint chipped ceiling. The scratched up floors... were covered in blood. There was screaming. There was a man. Why was he here? I only dream of strangers, but this was the first time I've ever seen my own house in a nightmare.
"Please go back to sleep..."
11:45 AM. I need to board the windows.
"You've barely slept for the past week..."
6:08 PM. I'm still waiting, bat in hand. Jessica is still on the bed. Her eyes are swollen from crying. She keeps telling me that she's called the police, that they're on their way. The police can't help, though. They never could before.
It's 7:13 when we hear glass shattering in the house. He's here. I tighten my grip on the baseball bat. Jessica starts crying again. It's gonna be okay, I tell her. I have this under control.
The footsteps become louder as the intruder approaches our bedroom. My senses are fading, but my adrenaline is at its peak. The man outside speaks to me in a morphed, grotesque voice. Bangs on the door. He tells me he's our neighbor, that he's worried because Jessica has been leaving him hysterical voicemails. That he's willing to use brute force to open the door. Killers are tricky like that, you know. They make you think they know you. That they're friends. But lucky for me and Jessica, my bat comes full swing as soon as the door breaks down.
I don't remember much after that. There was some blood on the floor. Someone was screaming. Maybe it was me. Maybe it was our neighbor, barely breathing on the floor next to me. Or maybe it was the cop, running in moments after to see this scene all play out.
So cool, thank you for bothering :) The prompts a vague outline of a story I've had in my head for ages and never gotten round to writing down so this is great to see it interpreted.
Thanks! It was my first attempt at actually responding to a prompt. You should try writing yours, though, I'd hate for your idea to not be pursued further.