The best thing about dreams is that fleeting moment, when you are between asleep and awake, when you don't know the difference between reality and fantasy, when for just that one moment you feel with your entire soul that the dream is reality, and it really happened. ~James Arthur Baldwin
The car rumbled easily out of the drive, my small hands clutching tightly to the hot leather. Asphalt burned against my nose as I gazed onto the barren waste land of a road. The smoke drifting over it, densely fogging up everything. I could barely see five feet outside. How was my mother driving? I pondered, my gaze settling abruptly on the back of my mother.
She had long chestnut hair that curved slightly upwards when it got to the back of her jaw, causing it to give off an eerie look to it. Her pale snow white hands gripped the steering wheel tightly as she watched the road unblinkingly. She looked so, unreal, as if someone replaced my own mother with a Barbie.
Everything looked normal but nothing actually was. Instead of the normal hum of a radio and the growl of a motor also including the drum of the wind rushing against the car. All I could hear was silence, dead quite silence. I adored this, it made everything seem so… isolated. I obsessed over this sudden silent day. For the first time in a seeming less eternity called life I didn’t wish to leave this torture.
But happiness never continues forever. We pulled into the dark fogged parking garage as the static on the radio grew somewhat louder. Now all I could hear was perpetual static. The ear ringing and mind numbing sound that made my head hurt. My mother pulled into a compact parking space which was dull and dim at first looking. As I got out of the car I looked towards the Nissan’s license plate. It was scribbled out in dull black sharpie as I noticed the car looked to have scratch marks down its side.
As I began forwards towards the elevator room of P1 my mother loomed behind me, her eyes dull and lifeless. We didn’t talk, chat or even say a word; we just used hand gestures and small grunts. It was like I didn’t have a tongue, and it scared me.
She sat down at her large spruce wood desk and picked up the black office phone which the date of when it had been purchased had been scribbled out quickly. She began chirping, chatting and rambling into the phone, but horror and disturbance hit me before the feeling of certain dread did.
The line was cut on the phone; no way on EARTH was she talking to someone. Backing up, my hazel eyes widened with fear and worry as my cherry chestnut hair fell down my shoulders and into my eyes. I tumbled into the small and dark hallway towards the staff room. The lights were dim and dark, like someone had taken then and broke every single one of them but a few lucky ones. But the lucky ones had been draped over with a cloth.
I was known for becoming a pain in these situations, so I was awkwardly surprised I remained calm for the remainder of the time. But my fact decided to turn into an opinion as the building fizzled into complete foggy darkness. I flailed around helplessly forever until my hand ran across smooth metal surf- A button! I pushed the button and a dim flashlight light streaked across the room.
I snapped it up and did a little happy dance as I glanced it towards a wall. A deep scarlet liquid ran down the wall as my heart began to play a little beat in my chest. I ran it up towards where it was originating from and fell back in horror. A man no older than 31-34 was nailed to a wall in a crucifix; he was clothed in, a now deep scarlet red, a hoodie jacket with the hood pulled up till his head. He was as pale as the winter snow.
His head shot up and glared me in the eyes, I screamed and stumbled upwards. Before I could think clearly about my stupid choice I shot into the bathrooms. I streaked into the handicap stall and locked it. I jumped onto the toilet seat. And began crying.
I don’t even know why I just, I just cried. My eyes red and puffy, my pale face streaked with blue tears. I sniveled helplessly, I was alone. Alone in the bathroom, alone in life. Or was it? No, it couldn’t be a dream. It was way too REAL to be a dream. I jumped up and nearly screamed again, but I covered my mouth. The sound of metal against metal rang against my ears, along with it quite sobbing of a man.
I exited the bathroom stall as I crept quietly out of the stall towards the main door; I opened it up and took a small glance outside. I saw a pale man with dark black hair falling down his back. He was naked, his muscles shifting as he walked. He turned around to face me as I noticed he was holding a large iron sword clutched in his right hand.
It had been dragging across the ground and making that horrible noise, now that I paid closer attention I looked down to where his sword had been dragging. There was a large cut mark through the metal ground where the sword had been. The metal where it had been seemed to glow a dark shade of ember, and his sword grew also a dark shade of ember.
As I looked at his face I nearly cried in terror. He didn’t have eyes while charcoal and scarlet looking liquids fell down from where his eyes should have been. All I remember after is screaming, and crying.
I awoke in my bed, salty tears staining my pale complexion as my bed was drenched in my sweat. It was all just a dream, a pure, terrible, dream. I would never forget this I knew it. I wiped away my tears and gazed at my door. I would never, ever, attempt to go to my mom’s work again.