I woke suddenly, my heart thumping in my chest. I anxiously wiped the sweat off my brow and wondered what had woken me. It had to be a nightmare, that was the only thing that fit with my manner of waking, my body angled so I could see the clock. I always woke that way.
I frown. What could possibly have given me nightmares? I haven’t encountered anything scary, recently.
Shaking the thought away, I took a closer look at the clock, simultaneously moving back down to my pillow. The clock now looked sideways, but I had developed a talent for reading it from different directions. It was 4:01 in the morning. I had woken at almost exactly 4:00 for the fifth time this month. I realized with a chill that it must be a recurring nightmare, which means not a fear I’ve encountered recently, but a fear I may have felt for a while.
I heard footsteps approaching my door and quickly jerked around towards the wall, pulling the blanket tightly around me, hoping I appeared asleep. I heard a creak, and watched a small trail of light appear on the wall. I couldn’t see my parents, but I could hear them, and I could see their shadows.
“I thought I heard him cry out,” my mother muttered.
“Me, too,” my dad agreed in a whisper. “What do you imagine is bothering him?” The door shut silently behind them and the voices faded into distant whispers I couldn’t make heads or tails of.
Part of me wanted to go to them and cry, and tell them everything. How scared I was of losing my friends. Of moving again. I kept silent, though, and allowed a single tear fall down my cheek and onto the faded pillow below my head, where countless tears have also fallen. I couldn’t tell them, though. Not if I truly wanted to. I was scared that they would lecture me on how it’s part of life to lose people.
No, I couldn’t tell them. I couldn’t tell anyone.
Then who can I tell? I wondered silently, as I drifted into a deep sleep. This time, though, I dreamt of the best fantasies I could have imagined. The nightmare wasn’t my dreams. It was my reality.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This was actually originally written for a club I'm in.
I frown. What could possibly have given me nightmares? I haven’t encountered anything scary, recently.
Shaking the thought away, I took a closer look at the clock, simultaneously moving back down to my pillow. The clock now looked sideways, but I had developed a talent for reading it from different directions. It was 4:01 in the morning. I had woken at almost exactly 4:00 for the fifth time this month. I realized with a chill that it must be a recurring nightmare, which means not a fear I’ve encountered recently, but a fear I may have felt for a while.
I heard footsteps approaching my door and quickly jerked around towards the wall, pulling the blanket tightly around me, hoping I appeared asleep. I heard a creak, and watched a small trail of light appear on the wall. I couldn’t see my parents, but I could hear them, and I could see their shadows.
“I thought I heard him cry out,” my mother muttered.
“Me, too,” my dad agreed in a whisper. “What do you imagine is bothering him?” The door shut silently behind them and the voices faded into distant whispers I couldn’t make heads or tails of.
Part of me wanted to go to them and cry, and tell them everything. How scared I was of losing my friends. Of moving again. I kept silent, though, and allowed a single tear fall down my cheek and onto the faded pillow below my head, where countless tears have also fallen. I couldn’t tell them, though. Not if I truly wanted to. I was scared that they would lecture me on how it’s part of life to lose people.
No, I couldn’t tell them. I couldn’t tell anyone.
Then who can I tell? I wondered silently, as I drifted into a deep sleep. This time, though, I dreamt of the best fantasies I could have imagined. The nightmare wasn’t my dreams. It was my reality.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This was actually originally written for a club I'm in.
Woah. This is intense and fascinating! I love it! I have this same fear from time to time, so this is very relatable. I love how well written it is. I love the details of his looking at the clock and other things. When ever I wake at the middle of the night, I do the same thing too, so it almost seems like I'm ready my past experiences (minus the nightmares). This is AMAZING!
ReplyDeleteEdit:
I haven’t encountered anything scary, recently--comma is not necessary
Not necessary, but it helps with the pacing :)
DeleteAnd thanks, I'm glad you like it!
true. It does make it seem like an after thought (in a good way)
DeleteIt really was great!
Lol Actually, the afterthought is the usage of the comma. When someone provides constructive criticism, the first thing I do is think of a reason not to change it, although I usually have a bunch of reasons for each individual section first, so this is the first time in 2019 that I've had to actually think through it right off the bat
Deletelol. Same. I usually do that too. I usually hate and disregard the edits for a day or two, but then by the time I type them out, I love them.
DeleteWow, Mark! This is so detailed and descriptive. It really is a sad story, because change... well, it changes everything. But I can relate to this a lot, since change can be scary especially moving to an unfamiliar place. This is very emotional as well. Albeit sad, this was a well done piece.
ReplyDeleteThank you
DeleteGreat story, Mark. :)
ReplyDelete