One Night at Freddy's

Just a Dream

The ride home was silent. I stared out the windshield absently until the car stopped. I jerked, aware of my surroundings and ready to get out, but then I realized we were only at a stoplight. I sighed and sank back into my seat.

"How much longer, do you think, until I'm home?" I asked softly.

"Fifteen minutes, give or take. This is some unusual traffic for this early." Mike said. I can't see how he's so calm.

I reclined my chair, taking deep breaths, and let the smooth movement of the car lull me into a reluctant sleep.

I sat with my legs angled under me in a beautiful meadow, filled only with white roses. I wore a white swing halter dress that spread about me in a perfect circle, not a single flower disrupting my small circle. A warm breeze blew my dark hair from my face. I sighed. I reached for a rose and picked it, its thorns didn't seem to hurt me. I held it to my nose and the smell turned from sweet to pungent, like rotten cheese. I scrunched my nose up and dropped the flower and its thorns made long scratches on my fingers. Blood trailed down my fingers to my wrist. I looked up to see every rose as far as the eye could see was black and their thorns were sharper than knives. I took a shaky breath when I heard shuffling behind me. I turned slowly, and I saw the four animatronics, beaten and broken, invading my peaceful meadow. Red liquid, oddly resembling the blood on my fingers, dripped from their artificial eye sockets. I scrambled to my feet, my dress clinging to my legs. I ran. My bare feet and ankles were stinging with cuts and the blood from my hands stained my dress. My breath came short and I tripped, cutting my arms on thorns. The surrounding roses grew thick and tall, caging me in with the animatronics. I stood and spun around, meeting eyes with the bear. He held a black rose with a sharpened end. He walked slowly, so slowly, towards me. The sharp end of the rose was pointed to me. I breathed, in... out... in. The rose was positioned above my heart. The bear pulled his arm back and launched it at me. The point pushes through my first layer of skin, leaking more blood on my dress. The point slid farther into my chest, thorns scratching on the sides. I screamed in pain. So much pain. So, so much . . .

I sat up in my bed. 'How did I get here?' I thought, looking at my room. I had fallen asleep in Mike's car, so someone must have moved me. I was sweaty and I felt like I had a fever, so I took off my warm up jacket. There was a whirring, buzzing sound, that reminded me of the brats from the house party not 12 hours ago, in the back of my head. I looked across my room at a mirror and saw a terrified look in my eyes and my mouth was wide open. I realized I was the one making the odd sound. I closed my mouth, wondering why I was covered in sweat and screaming. I suddenly remembered what had happened and what I dreamed about.

I covered my face with my hands and shivered. 'This can't be real. That couldn't have happened' I thought, 'Just a dream.' I pulled my hands from my face and looked at them. Blood. Blood dripped from cuts on my fingers to my palm. Blood slid from my palm to my wrist. I felt it, thick and warm against my skin. I stared at it in shock, not daring to breathe.

I blinked once and it was all gone. I breathed a sigh of relief, dropping my hands on to the bed and leaning back on the headboard. A flash of the bear holding the rose ripped through my mind. I whimpered and hugged my knees to my chest.

"Are . . . you . . . okay?" My mom stumbled into my doorway, hiccuping. She was drunk, very drunk. I couldn't deal with her being so drunk. Her cheeks were flushed and her thin red hair was piled on her head lazily. She had a goofy look on her face.

"Mom, I need you to leave me alone right now." I whispered.

"Naw, come on now... that's 17-year-old code for 'Mom, I need to talk to you.'" she slurred.

"I'm tired," I tried, getting up to close my door.

"Nah-uh. You are going,"--she hiccuped--"to talk to me right now."

"No, thanks," I said, closing my door.

She stuck out her foot, stopping the door. She stepped inside, pushing me back towards my bed. She pushed down on my shoulders, forcing me to sit. "Tell me," she growled, "what's going on."

"Mom," I squeaked as her nails dug into my skin, "You're . . . drunk."

"Hell yeah, I am!" She exclaimed and sat next to me, swaying slightly.

"Come on, go to bed," I said pulling her up. She stood willingly. I pulled her to her room and, just outside the door, she stopped.

"No." she swayed and stumbled to the left. I caught her before she fell.

"You need to sleep."

Her face turned red and she slapped me. "No!" she pushed me against the beige wall, her hands around my neck. "You're not the boss of me," she growled.

"Mom... please. You're acting... like a... child," I whispered, struggling to breathe as her hands tightened. She let go and walked into her room, muttering as she slammed the door behind her. I dropped to the hardwood floor, rubbing my neck, gasping for air. I stood and hurried back to my room, locking the door. I sat on my bed and pulled my legs to my chest.

A tear slid down my cheek, running along my jaw and trailing down my neck. I rocked myself back and forth as the waterworks unleashed. Sobs racked through my body. My cheek stung and my neck throbbed. I was scared. So scared.

I wiped my face and sat at my white vanity. I laid my palms on face down on the surface and stared in the mirror. I blinked and the blood was back, falling from my eyes in drops and splashed across the mirror. My eyes widened and I pushed away from the vanity. I toppled backwards and landed with a thump on the floor.

I laid on the floor, wishing for sleep. At least then I'm not aware of my thoughts. I closed my heavy eyelids and I welcomed the dreamless sleep.