Young Writers Society

I wake up in a cold sweat. I can hear my heart pounding in my ears, and I’m panting, as if I was running just moments ago. I glance at the clock. 2:57 AM. I sigh and slide out of bed, rubbing my eyes and slipping on a robe. Dragging my bare feet across the carpet, I make my way out of my room and into the kitchen. I saunter up to the cupboard, and take out a bottle of wine. I grab a glass, dropping in a few ice cubes, and fill it halfway with the dark red liquid. I pace over to the dining room and walk up to a window, clutching the glass between both of my shaking hands.

I had it again.

The dream.

For the past month, I’ve been having this one recurring dream - or nightmare, rather - almost every night. The dream starts with me sitting at a park bench, watching young children playing on a playground while their mothers watch them. Everyone is so happy. Even me. Seeing other people in high spirits has always put me in them, as well. I can hear the high-pitched voices of the children’s shouts and laughter, and behind that, I hear the moms’ bright chatter with one another. The skies are a clear blue, with not a cloud to be seen, and the grass is a lush shade of green. The full leaves on the trees rustle in the cool, gentle breeze. The setting is so beautiful, so perfect.

But not for long.

There is one point in the dream where all of the laughter and talking comes to an abrupt end, replaced by a deadly silence. I seem to be the only one of them who notices. Everyone else appears to be acting normal, and it looks as though they are all still talking, but they make no sound. The silence is deafening. Then, darkness rolls in. A twilight-like curtain drops over the setting, despite the sun being high in the sky. The color of the sky fades to a yellowish-gray. The colors all around me become dull and lifeless. My happiness diminishes while my fear gradually grows.

My skin starts to prickle, and I feel a growing sense of dread and paranoia. My body becomes tense. I feel the need to get up and run away, as far as possible from where I am. But I’m stuck here. My body won’t move.

Then, he appears.

Beyond the playground, in the shade of some tall oak trees, there is a person standing. Waiting. Only I notice him. He’s tall - taller than any ordinary human - about ten feet tall, and very slender. He wears a business suit with a blood-red tie. His skin is pale as a sheet, and he... he has no face. At the sight of him, my energy drains and my mind goes fuzzy. While the kids continue to play and laugh, he just stands there, watching them. Watchingme.

Suddenly, a young boy runs past, blocking my vision for just a moment. Once the child has passed, I look under the oak trees again, but the tall man is gone. He disappeared. It seems as though he was never there in the first place; there isn’t a trace that shows that he was. There’s a flash of bright light, and the setting of the dream changes. Now, I’m in the middle of a forest. The color of everything has been restored and the darkness is gone. I stand for a moment looking around and taking in my surroundings, then start running, without any idea of where I’m going.

Usually, the dream ends there. Last night, however, it went on. I continue to run until I reach an opening in the trees. In the opening there’s a huge drainage tunnel. The same kind that haunted me as a child after - after the incident. In my dream, though, I’m not thinking about that. I just feel my hope slowly seep from my bones.

My feet slowly start to carry me to the opening, then into it, despite my strong want to avoid it completely. I start running, trying to get to the other end of the tunnel before... Before what? Am I runningtosomething, orfromsomething? As I near the other end, my heart beats faster and faster. I quickly lose energy, and collapse on the concrete floor of the tunnel, panting. On my hands and knees, I start hacking uncontrollably, almost to the point that I can’t breathe. Over the sound of my coughing, I hear quick footsteps approach me from in front of me. I look up, only to be blinded by a flash of bright light.

That’s when I woke up.

Thinking about it now, I start to wonder who - or what - the footsteps belonged to. Surely it wasn’t that strange, faceless creature, was it? My senses tell me it wasn’t. Why am I even so shaken up about it? It was just a dream, right? Or could it have been some sort of vision?

I’m not so sure. I look at the clock. 3:41. I glance back down at my wine, which I have drank none of. Now, it just seems repulsive. For some reason, it reminds me of... blood. Blood from years passed.

Blood of years to come.

I shake my head to rid my mind of the horrid thought. I walk up to the sink, pouring the wine down the drain and setting the glass down on the counter as I go back to thinking about the dream. What does it mean? Is it all in my head, or is there some hidden message behind it all? Was it a foreshadowing of the future, or a memory from my past?

My past. It’s all a blur to me. I never really understood why I could never recall my childhood years. Whenever I try to remember, my mind just goes blank. I don’t know what it is, but something is keeping me from remembering. What I can remember, though, are just bits and pieces of seemingly pointless information.

Except for one. It was when I was about eight years old, and it’s what makes the dream I just had so chilling. I just remember waking up in the same tunnel that was in my last dream. It was completely dark, and I was all alone. I was scared, so I tried running to get out of it, but it seemed to go on forever. It was almost like was a dream, for it seemed so unreal. But I know it wasn’t. I eventually neared an end to the tunnel, and it was only about twenty feet away, when I slipped and fell onto the hard concrete floor. As I got up, I noticed that the ground was wet. There were puddles of water everywhere. I wandered around, looking at them, until I saw red taints start to stain some of them. I followed them. They led me to a small puddle of blood close to the opening of the tunnel. Before I could completely process what was happening, I screamed and ran out of the end of the tunnel, into the woods that surrounded it, completely traumatized from what I had just seen. If I remember correctly, I believe I heard footsteps in the tunnel as I was running out. The footsteps weren’t my own. Someone was chasing me. Somehow, though I have no idea how, I managed to make it out of there okay. I never found out what the blood was from or why it was there, but I just knew that I would never return to that place again, if I ever did find out exactly where it was.

I haven’t seen any sign of it since. In fact, I had nearly forgotten about the tunnel until I saw it in the dream I just had. Thinking of it again makes me lightheaded, but I can’t calm myself enough to go back to sleep, to close my eyes, and risk seeing it again. I decide that I need to get out of the house, despite it being so early. It’s mid-April, so it’s not too cold outside. I sneak back to my room down the hall, change out of my pajamas, and pull my hair back into a ponytail. I grab a jacket and a string backpack, filling the bag with my phone, a flashlight, a bottle of water, and a camcorder. I’m not sure why, but I just feel the need to bring the camcorder, in case anything happens.

Slipping on my jacket, backpack, and a pair of running shoes, I walk out the door, determined to free myself from my stuffy, enclosed apartment. I take out my flashlight, clicking it on. Although the skies are clear and there are hundreds of stars out, it is still dark enough that I need the flashlight. The nearest city is miles away. I live in a small town near a forest and there aren’t many street lights. Whenever I need to relax and get away from the world, I would go on walks through the woods. It’s always calmed me whenever I’m stressed, made me feel better whenever I’m down. But I’ve never gone at night. It only takes me about ten minutes to get to the entrance. Once I do, I take out my camcorder and slide it onto my hand, turning it on.

For the first twenty minutes, I stay on a path, but I decide that I’d rather explore a bit off-trail. I wander around for a while, looking around for nothing in particular, until I hear twigs snap behind me. I freeze in my tracks, almost too scared to turn around, but not wanting to go without looking. Slowly, I turn my head back. I see only trees. I shine my flashlight back and forth across the landscape, and my eyes scan every detail, looking for something other than trees and bushes. That’s all that’s there, though. I turn my head back and start walking again, this time a bit more rushed than before. I wonder what could've snapped those twigs. I tell myself that it was just an animal, but I can't completely reassure myself.

I hike for another hour or so, finding nothing out of the ordinary or anything significant, when I make up my mind to get out of the woods and return home. Though no other strange occurrences happened, I can't shake the feeling that I am being followed.

By the time I emerge from the forest, it's almost dawn. The sky in the east glows with a pinkish-grey hue, and I can hear sparrows chirping to one another. I take a deep breath of the fresh, early-morning, spring air. It slightly calms me to be out of the dense woods and free of the darkness, but I still do not feel comfortable with my surroundings. I hurry back to my apartment, slamming the door shut behind me, making sure to lock both locks. I am confused as for why I feel like this - just so cautious and paranoid. It must've just been that dream that really shook me up. That's hopefully all it is. I have a feeling there's more to it, though.

The silence of my apartment is making me a bit uneasy so I turn on the radio, hoping to break the silence. The moment I switch it on, it explodes with deafeningly loud rock and roll music filled with static. I jump, nearly startled me out of my skin. Cringing, I turn the volume down so the music is barely audible, but now I can only hear static. I try changing stations, but they're all the same.

That's odd, I think to myself.There must be no signal. I glance out the window, expecting to see clouds or something else that may be causing the radio to be acting strange, but, just as it was when I came in twenty minutes ago, it is a beautiful day with nearly no clouds in the sky.Okay, then, I guess it’s just the power here, I assume. The thing is, I never have problems with my power. I admit, my apartment isn’t the greatest, but it’s perfectly functional.I’ll ask the landlord about it later, I tell myself, though I know I won’t get to it. I’m really busy with my work life. By my work life, I mean my attempts at trying to get a job. I just can’t seem to stay in a job for more than a few weeks at a time, and I’m starting to run out of options.

I pace over to the kitchen table, picking up the “Job Listings” section of the newspaper from the day before and skimming the list. At first, nothing catches my eye, until I get halfway through the second column. I see the title “Forestry - Forest and Conservation Worker at Rosswood Park.” That catches my eye. Rosswood Park. That’s the forest that I live so close to. It would be so easy, and enjoyable to - I love those woods. As I mentioned before, the place is like a home to me, and always has been since I moved here, or at least as long as I can remember. I can’t recall when I moved here, or where I came from. That portion of my life is still stuck in the fog of my lost memories. I never understood why the woods made me feel so safe, so calm, despite my previous experience in a forest when I was eight.

Now, determined to remember something that may make everything a bit clearer, I strain my mind, searching through it for some sort of hint that will lead me to a breakthrough. My struggle is fruitless. Frustrated, I run my fingers through my hair, sighing.

I sit down in a chair, suddenly feeling extremely tired and worn out, probably because I woke up so early this morning. It feels like that was days ago, though. Time just goes by so slowly. It has been lately; it seems like that started along with the dreams. I begin to wonder what the meaning of all of it together could be, but my exhaustion pulls my eyelids down, and I don’t have the energy to even think about it. I slowly rise to my feet and slump through my apartment to my room, collapsing onto the covers of my bed.

I fall asleep almost immediately, without changing out of my clothes or taking off my shoes, too tired to even crawl under the covers.