Surviving A Dream

Chapter 8- I wake up alone

It's the morning now, the birds were communicating with song, the streets were drying from the sun, and there was a rainbow, a big arch of colour shining in the sky. But Emma woke up alone, no alarm. That was because it's a Saturday. But she didn't want it to be. She wanted it to be a Thursday, she wanted to go to school. Nor were her parents there, she was alone. She felt lonely enough anyways. But her being home alone made her paranoid. Every small noise made her flinch and think she is in a dream. Within the hour, she checked the house twice to check if she's alone. But she still felt like she wasn't alone. She felt like someone was there. The whole time.

Her parents came back soon, dad went shopping and her mum went for a short shift. Which made her happy. Now she knew she wasn't alone. She wasn't alone on purpose, which made her feel safe. But they ate take away, which made her feel even happier. It made her forget about the questions, about the dreams and about pretty much anything.

But the night came by quickly, forcing her to remember what happenned through the past nights. Which made her favourite part of the day a regret. Which made her feel empty. But she put on a fake smile, for her parents. It's not like they would understand.

By that time she was sleepy, there came the wind. The wind howled, but to a crescent moon. A moon with the arch of a French pastry. Emma was staring through her window, listening to the wind and looking at the moon. Thinking about her answers, to the metaphoric questions in her mind. She didn't want to close her eyes. She didn't want to leave her home, to a home identical to hers. Without her parents. She was too afraid. But her questions turned into statements and commands. " Go to sleep," " Don't be absurd Emma" "It's just a dream" they said. Getting louder and louder. Till she, closed her eyes and opened them again. But she wasn't by her curtains anymore, she was in her bed. With messy hair and sleepy eyes. was it a dream? she thought. Another question to bother her. But she heard a loud bang from downstairs, but it wasn't pots or pans. It sounded like, the fireplace!

The bang made her flinch, but she wasn't scared. She was sure. But while she walked down she smelt a pleasant smell. Reminded her of camping in the summer. But it was  autumn. Her father must have made a fire in the fireplace, he does that a lot. He likes the warmth of the fire. But to her not so surprise, it wasn't her father. It was, she didn't in fact know. Looked like a zebra but the figure of a deer. Was it an in-between? Emma didn't know. She couldn't be bothered. She just wanted to get back to bed. She wanted to do things tomorrow, not worry about things that are just a part of her imagination. Until she felt herself walking closer like, there was a human controlling her. Like an author creates it's story. But she didn't protest the movement. She was too tired to do that. But she just wanted to get back to sleep. So she trotted along, uncontrollably.