Haunting Dreams

Save room for nightmares, no? Tell children that there’s nothing to worry about, it wasn’t real, it can’t hurt you. How fucking wrong we are on that one!

Time to dream now boys and girls…time to dream!

Having the same dream over a few nights isn’t out of place, it happens. Sometimes a month will go by, and you’ll have it again, but then you’ll forget all about it. How i wish I could forget this one…

Ten years of enjoying this nightmare and it still hits to a deep core to this day. There’s just something about it that completely fucks with me to the point where even my body says “screw you, that’s fucked up!” The dream is simple, not much to it, which also holds the problem.

Walking past the empty rooms, everything is there, some scattered, some not. Down the hall are the “single” rooms, a basic bed, shower and toilet are all that’s there, and tightly placed too. One on the right belongs to a female, who seems to have left her water running, but being no where in sight. Just a few more feet from her door is a semi-circular room filled with a hundred seats, all facing what looks to be a stage. At last, some people, but all scarred out of their minds. I hear something, something odd. It sounds like little feet, a child perhaps, running. But there haven’t been any kids seen around me. Its only a group of adults, many seem to have just been put into this room randomly, still holding a suitcase. A balcony, maybe I can see what else is going on around here from up there. But no stairs to get there. A single door at the far side of the room seems to have been welded shut somehow, but why?

Barely knocking an elderly lady in the head as I make it over the last row of seats to reach the balcony/cat-walk, I see someone that I’ve met before, but she looks different, nothings changed, but somethings different about her. Says she’s already looked around a bit up here, but that there are some rooms to the left, just like that damn door was below. I can still hear the running of little feet, racing around, up and down stairs as if frantically trying to find something, or someone. Going through the rooms, they’re all much bigger than any previous ones noticed, almost like a suite for families to enjoy. But again, suitcases lay around half empty as if something caught their attention. I don’t like this feeling…

We enter the last room, empty like the others, but without suitcases. There’s only a small toy in the corner that looks like it hasn’t been played with for quite some time. We don’t bother to stay in there long, not with that ever increasing feeling of something not being right. Little feet running turn into scratching at a door to the left of the last room, a few feet away. Looking down, there doesn’t seem to be anyone or anything in what appears to be a lobby below. But the base of a staircase answers part of our questions of where the pitter-patter is coming from.

The scratching stops, and the sound of little feet replace it, along with that feeling again. Laying down, out of sight, we peak over the edge of the floor to see who is down there having just raced down the stairs. Shockingly, its a young boy, no older than about 6 or 7. We watch him as he runs around seemingly faster than his little legs could possibly allow him to. He looks up, directly towards where we are, seemingly impossible for him to have spotted us. He races up the stairs…

Instantly the scratching at the door begins again! It has to be him, there’s no other explanation for it. He breaks away a sizable splinter from the bottom of the door. Something is horribly wrong here! He starts growling and making odd chomping sounds trying to bite at us. There’s only a small sliver of room between the floor and bottom of the door, but we’re able to both make out his teeth, and his intentions…

I find myself holding a comb with a pointed handle that must have been nearby. The splinter of door has gotten slightly bigger from the boy picking at it ferociously. Something is extremely wrong! The child, his abilities of movement, his teeth, and lack of people in general not being around, have led me to one conclusion. If any of us are to survive, this child must be killed. Not being able to risk losing the one barrier that is slowly being picked at, the comb is what must be used, and his face is all that there is to attempt it.

Violently awakening, I desperately lie still, struggling for the sound of traffic passing by, hoping that it was all another fucking nightmare. Thankfully the sounds of big rigs passing by confirm that it had in fact all been a dream. My body is still frozen from the vivid pictures that have just unfolded in my mind. Slowly feeling starts to return to my arms and legs, and I am no longer trapped immobile. There becomes an unwillingness to close my eyes for more than a few seconds, regardless of how tired I still am. The dream is unfinished, and I am trying to keep it that way…