This is an entry for Selene's Dream Contest. Please be honest. Hope you like it!
I can’t believe you won! I just cannot believe it! Those words have run through my head so many times that I believe that I have worn them out. I shouldn’t ‘not believe’ that I won, my friends and family shouldn’t, either. I was so confident, before, before I won.
That makes me sound…stuck up. I’m sure people out there have cried for their loss. I wonder what they would say to me, the winner, sulking for his gain. Hearing those words over and over makes me feel like winning wasn’t meant for me, like I’m lucky that I won, that I wasn’t that great. That somehow giant flying monkeys captured those would-have-should-have-been winners and took them off to some magical land. I am not great at guitar, I am not. The ones in the magical monkey land are. I suck.
“Congrats Vik!” calls Fred as he sauntered in my room. He slid his fingers through his hair, for the thousandth time and grinned. “You did great out there.” You could tell by not only his voice how much jealousy he felt.
“I can’t believe you won! I just cannot believe it!” I heard him say, another time that has been said today. “Out of all of England! I heard that thousands entered that music contest.” He forced out a chuckle, “Including me.”
“Yep,” I agreed. That must’ve not been the tone Fred expected from the surprised look on Fred’s face as he put his arm around my shoulders.
“Vikster!” he said using my other nickname. “If I won, I would be celebrating. Let’s use some of that cash you won. How much was it? Ten thousand pounds?” He took his arm of my back and stared at me eagerly.
“Fine, tomorrow night. But, Fred, I really don’t want to spend all my money.” I wasn’t planning on spending my money on my ‘friend.’ A pained look crossed Fred’s face. I could tell he was thinking vacations to exotic lands. But that was definitely not going to happen.
“Fine,” his cheeks puffed out as he stood up and flung himself back on my bed and mounted his balled up fists on my dark green bedding. He slowly let out the air in his cheeks. The loud noise that came from that sigh made me feel like giving in. But I wouldn’t, I couldn’t, would I?
“Fred!” I cried. “Okay, fine. We’ll spend some of the money. But not all of it.” Just…more than I’d aimed for.
Fred could sometimes be considered as a friend. Sometimes. A viewer from the side would think we were friends. During all our fights they would only sigh and think how friendships in the twenty first century are way different friendships back in the ‘old’ days.
He is just is too self centered. Why am friends with him?
I don't know what will happen tomorrow night.
Nighttime creeped up sooner than I could believe. After an hour of tossing and turning I finally fell into the strangest, creepy nightmare of all sorts.
“Viktor...” I heard a voice calling. I kept turning and turning, just to see nothing but the dark sky reflecting on dozens of houses. “Viktor, I need to tell you something. You need to know this.”
I circled around the block a couple of times. “Viktor! Come over here!”
Over where? I walked into the yard of a stranger, since that was where I thought the sound came from.
“Viktor!” the voice cried, again. The tone was longing. “Viktor-iktor-iktor...” It echoed. “Viktor-iktor-iktor.”
“Where are you?” My voice sounded hoarse. “Are you close?” I walked the perimeter of the house in which I was trespassing. I was pretty sure that this was where I heard the voice.
“Over here...” The voice trailed on. “Over here... Viktor.”
I heard the door of the house I was in the yard of open. I knelt down to hide myself from whatever neighbor resided at this house. It wasn't that hard, due to the tall grass.
“Hello?” The neighbor called. “Anyone out there?” I raised my head, hoping that whoever the neighbor was wouldn't see me. I glanced at him. His eyes were drooping and he wore wrinkled PJs.
“Musta been my imagination.” he mumbled as he closed the door and walked back into the house. Phew!
“Viktor...you may not see me now...but I am close.” Close? Where could whoever the voice belongs to be?
“Go to the shed.” it said. I figured it meant the yellow shed next to the yard I was kneeling in. I walked over to it.
“Yes, you're getting closer and closer. Now open the door.” I gripped the handle. Should I open it?
“Trust me,” the voice said. “You can trust me. Open the door.”
I pulled on the rusty door. I pulled a flashlight out of my pocket. God knows where I got that flashlight. I saw a woman in her late twenties staring out into space. Her skin was the palest shade of ivory, and her hair was the darkest shade of brown. Her gray blue eyes, now, followed my every move.
My first thought told me to get the hell out of here. Then I thought for a moment. Should I really run, or does this woman actually have something to say to me? I decided to hear the woman out, before taking a run. Was that a good choice?
“Viktor,” she finally said. “I'm sorry to have confused you.” She wore a black tank top with blue sweat pants. “I'm just so stressed. You can probably tell how different I sound now, to how I sounded when I was calling you.” She chuckled.
“Yeah,” I said. I sat down on one of the old cardboard boxes.
“There's something crucial I need to tell you.” Her thin body tensed up. Her eyelash twitched, and she shivered. “I don't know how to tell you. I don't know how you will take it.”
“Wait, but, who are you?”
“Promise you won't go crazy, we shouldn't be here. We don't want to make a lot of noise. Like, before. I guess I was a little too loud calling your name.” She shivered again.
“What do you know, that could affect me?” Who was this lady, anyway. I looked around at the numerous amounts of bicycles surrounding me. I caught the woman's gaze and stared back at her.
“I know...everything. Viktor, I created you.” She looked down at the floor, trying not to catch my watch.
“What do you mean?” My words came out as squeaks. I closed my black eyes. Surely this was a dream, I mean it is a dream, isn't it?
“I created Earth. Earth is an imaginary land in my head. I wrote a story about it, and you're my main character.” She closed her eyes. For a moment I was speechless.
“So, I'm not real.”
“Right,”
“Fred isn't real,”
“Right,”
“The Earth isn't real,”
“Yes, Viktor.” She sighed.
“And why should I believe you?” My words came out brusquely and with a hint of pain. I could feel the lump building in my throat.
“I have proof.”
Those words, 'I have proof,' have been ringing in my head the whole night, ever since I woke up from that horrid dream. I have proof, I have proof, I have proof. I know that the dream didn't really happen. It was only my imagination playing tricks on me, isn't it? Yesterday was stressful, wasn't it? Yesterday felt so surreal, that maybe it got to my head. Like how first thing in the morning, I found out I won the competition.
“Is Viktor Aston here?” Said the voice on the other end. Playing guitar was my passion, I wanted to do it for the rest of my life. My friends, Rita and Fred, had started a band and wanted me to join, once they heard me play one day on the street (I had done it to earn money.) They thought I was amazing. Well, I was excited to finally get accepted into some type of guitar 'job.' Then l found out about this contest. I was so eager to win. If I won, it would be my breakthrough into the music industry. I could somehow get the rest of the band famous, too, maybe.
“Yes, that's me.” I said to the man on the other end. At the time, I didn't know who possibly was calling me.
“This is Mark Scott Banston from the Major Musicians Breakthrough Contest UK.” My heart drummed against my ribs. “I am happy to say that you have won...” He paused. I hate it when announcers do that. I held my breath.
“You have won first place!” I leapt for joy.
“We have sent you a check for ten thousand pounds in the mail. Next Saturday there'll be meeting about the career ahead of you.” I grinned and hung up.
The birds were singing! The fireworks were sparking. Babies were born! Couples were engaged! The world was happy!
For a moment. Then came reality.
A couple of hours later was when I started doubting my win. A couple of hours after that was when I gave in to Fred. And a couple of hours after was when I had that incredibly realistic dream. Yet fantasy in all.
I'm not sure if what the lady told me in the dream was true. All I know, is that I have to hear her theory again. If you would call it a theory.
And I have proof. And I have proof. And I have proof. Those words flew through my mind again. They formed a tornado of thoughts and swept me off my feet. I found myself at a small office, filled with tiny odd shaped jars filled with multicolored liquids.
The same woman in my dream sat at a desk waving her arms like a symphony conductor. A blue sphere, that she must have been making, grew brighter and brighter until you clearly see what it was a globe. The globe had risen in the air.
“Oh, hello Viktor.” she said. She noticed my mouth gaping. “Did I introduce myself last night?”
I shook my head.
“I am Kalla Vielle. I live in a the real World, Vivli.” I still stared.
“I told you I'd prove it!” She spun the earth around with her right arm. “Do you want proof that I created it?”
I wasn't sure if I did. I could tell that either way I would get it.
“Pick a spot on the globe, hon.” I wasn't sure what game we were playing. randomly chose a spot near Africa. “I created Africa. It's only a figment in my imagination,” said Kalla. “And I can delete it. Want to see?”
“Why would you want to do that?” This was getting crazy.
“So I can prove to you the danger that you're in.” She raised her eyebrows. “I can put it back, anyway. I can do what Earth calls magic, you see. Everyone in Vivli. But that's been a problem. That's why I created Earth. But that's been a problem.” She sighed.
“Okay, so what you're trying to tell me, is that I am in a magical mayhem of a world right now? There is magic in this world, but no magic in the imaginary world I live in.”
Kalla nodded.
“And the world that I live in, Earth, isn't real? You're sure?”
“Yes, it's all clear to you now, isn't it?” She sighed. I want to get out of here. This must be a dream. But it's not, is it?
“How can I get out of here?” I croaked. I was trembling all over. The last thing I wanted her to do was delete Africa, if that was possible.
“Vik, you can get out, once you believe me.”
“Just don't delete Africa.” I said.
“Even though I'd like to, I can't promise you that.” She stared at the ground. For a moment, I actually felt bad for her. “But you need to trust me.”
but, maybe something like that. 
You switched tenses a few times in the story. You will have to pick one tense and stick with it.
