Running From Death

[ tick-tock ]

"Mother!" Keira called, startled by the scratching from underneath her bed. 1, 2, 3. . she counted. Her mother always got to her by 3. She waited at least a few more seconds. The scratching became more silent. Then loud. Then silent. Afraid, she sprinted towards her mother's bedroom. The wind, as if a warm welcome, opened the door to see such tragic view. The pungent smell of rust lingered in her nostrils. Blood, she observed.

"Mother?" she called, once again, although hopeless. There was no movement. She stood still. Silence made everything more eerie; the only sound that filled the room was of her mother's watch she knew didn't have the ability to tell time. It was more like an hourglass; a countdown. Then, a figure emerged from the closet. It wasn't of a person; no. It was quiet, swift, and dark as coal. It started creeping towards Keira.

I've escaped. it hissed. Its' voice was deep, yet sharp. The sound seemed so familiar, like the one she hears, when awake; never in her dreams.

Unsure of what was happening, she ran as fast as she could. All of a sudden, as if any memory of the house had been erased, she didn't know which direction to go to, or what each hall led to. She felt as if she was trapped inside of a maze. But then, at the end of this one particular hall that she'd somehow memorized, was a bright, shining, blue item. That, she knew of from her previous dreams. It was a portal. According to her brain. She wanted to run into it. "There's no way back. After this, everything that happened here, I will never ever experience again." she thought to herself, and knew, for a dream she had before, she had never dreamt of again. Except for the first part of her being on the bed.

This was a dream, all made up my her colourful mind. She clutched onto her crystal necklace, which was given to her by her mother. She counted once again. 1, 2, 3... .

The moment she looked back at it, she saw that it had clung onto her foot.
Is this still a dream? My dreams never end like this! Stop playing me!

She screamed and started to shake her foot in attempt to make it let go of her. "Get off me!' she shouted.

-

Her eyes shot open. "What'd you see now?" asked Abel, her flatmate, who had made it a habit of sitting beside her every morning while she's still asleep, so she'll be able to tell him about her dream the moment she wakes up. He'd been living with her ever since freshman year of high school. Abel's the one whom Keira trusted most, ever since her mother. "Well," she said, as she tried to think of how to explain what had just happened in her dream. "I felt something scratching under my bed. I went outside my room to my mother's and she was.... gone."

Abel waited for her to continue. "Then?" he asks. "Then, something clung onto me." she continued.

"What thing?"

"A thing."

"Such detailed description, might I say."

"Itwasathing,Idon'tknow."

"Oh gods, ha-ha, I knew you were a freak!" Abel bursted out laughing at her lack of capability to thoroughly put its' appearance to words. It scared Keira more than lizards, which said a lot. He never believed in anything she would tell him that happened in her supernatural dreams, or as some would call them, nightmares. Though every time he laughed at her, she sensed a hint of fear.

He noticed Keira become tense. "Hey, I didn't mean to laugh." he said sincerely, although holding back a laugh. "No, no. . it's just that, I-I'm scared. It's like, something really wants to get me. It's unlike from my other nightmares. It's worse." Keira sat on the couch with Abel and felt like running away. But she couldn't. She never trusted anyone more that him and she didn't have anywhere else to go to. It's been six years since they'd been best friends, almost siblings. Yet, she felt a little uneasy when with him. She'd sensed so much holding back of things from him. She didn't know what, or why. So much questions, yet none of them had answers... . yet. Crazy, how she believed in such illusions her mind showed her. Crazy, how it felt it all too real to just be dreams.