1, 2, 3 here we go!

Stanger's Ghost

       This one is an original. Hehehe.

       'Finally' Brent thinks sighing as he falls heavily on his couch. He feels as if he's aged at least ten years since this morning. His eyes burn. And only seems to get worse as he yawns. He really could just fall asleep right here.But he feels wrong in his own skin. He needs a shower. Now.

       'No rest for the wicked it seems.' He supposed. He gets up sluggishly and trudges to the bathroom, eyes half closed. But by the time he is even at the door he is heaving one of his biggest sighs yet as he groans in distaste, because suddenly he doesn't think his decision was so wise any more. "Who the heck needs such a big bathroom?" He grouses, then decides that this is no longer his favourite room in the house. He is sleep deprived and terrified.

       He should think that his bad mood is justified. He ends up deflating as he contemplates foregoing the shower altogether. He soon decides against it as he trudges further into the bathroom watching as the light glints on the patterned tiles. White with little grey diamond shapes running through them. He slides the door of the shower open and plays with the water settings a little trying to get the temperature just right. So that maybe he can finally get some damn sleep tonight.

       It takes a while but soon he is stripping as it seems he has finally deemed the temperature good enough.

*

       Now, he lies in his softest pyjamas and thick blankets. His entire being relaxing into its almost all encompassing warmth. He sighs as mind swims in and out of slumber until his eyes finally close properly, breaths falling into an even rhythm.

***

       Brent finds himself sitting rigidly in a chair that he is now all too familiar with. His heart sinks as he looks around and finds that he is being watched by an all too familiar stranger. Brent's brows furrow as he turns in his sleep. The stranger has cropped dirty blond hair and almost electric blue eyes that stare at him almost studying as they follow his every move and reaction. Sharp eyebrows furrow as he gets up from his chair feeling mighty uncomfortable as he is so blatantly watched. He walks through a freakishly grey passage and notices that the stranger is following their usually perpetually pursed lips drawn into a thin line. He continues walking. At the end of the passage he is met with three doors. He ignores the other two and walks to the one on his left. Upon opening the door he met with raging waters. Spanning as far as the eye can see. He knows what's coming next. He feels it in how it is suddenly too hard to breathe. He spins around quickly to see how the stranger's lips tip into a barely their smile. Eyes almost twinkling then suddenly his feet has lost the ground under and he plummeting into dark raging water.

       Brent jolts awake body awash in cold sweat as he gasps for breath. 'Again?' This is the third time in a row he had the same dream with the same person. Yes the dream always ends differently but why is it always the same person? Is it even a dream at this point? Why do they always feel so real? He falls back into bed as vivid memories of the other dreams flash in his mind. In the first one it started the same. Him in an unfamiliar chair, unfamiliar environment and the awful fright of being watched. At that point his heart was in his throat!

       Mind you he had no idea it was a dream until he woke up. Almost dying with relief once he saw the light of day. Having been literally pushed off a cliff by said stranger then. Blue eyes alight with curiosity.

       In the second dream he was a little more prepared, still not enough it seemed since some weird shit had to happen by the end when he opened the middle door, only to be met with complete darkness. He froze because in reality he would have either walked away or he would have looked for a light switch. But this is a dream, what's the harm? Harm? Watching a door close on its own while being held in place by glowing blue eyes and waking up, unable to move or open your eyes, having to stay still and refusing to cry. Staying still in bed even after you figure out you can finally move, feeling more tired than before you even fell asleep.

       Brent sighs as gets up. Going through his morning routine and changing his clothes as he decides to leave the house. It's his damn day off he should still be in bed. He could cry just thinking about it; he pouts unconsciously as his eyes feel entirely too warm. Ruffling curly brown hair he shuts his door and heads for his car. A sleek black BMW with stylish silver rims and slightly tinted windows. He gets in after pressing the button on his key to open and starts driving at a leisurely pace. He does a small dance when he sees his destination and turns into the driveway. After parking and getting out he presses the lock button on his key listening for the little whoop the car gives to signal that it's locked then stuffs his hands into his sweater pockets as he takes a large breath.

       He lets himself into the house calling for the owner, "Lone?!" no answer.

       "Lone!!" He hears a small crash from the back. He drops himself into the sofa. Making himself comfortable listening for his friends' soft footsteps. "What the fuck man? What are you doing here?" Lone fires off. "Good morning to you too fugly!" Brent chirps, faux cheer painfully evident as he rolls his eyes. Dropping himself beside Brent, his grey eyes soften with concern, "What's wrong?" The question is not unexpected. They've been friends for so long, Brent would have been beyond disappointed if the little fucker wasn't able to tell when he was bursting at the seems to tell him something. And burst he did.

       Brent tells him from start to finish about the dreams, how the dreams end about the stranger watching him in those dreams and how the stranger seems to be happy when the dream ends. When he is finally finished he feels so much better he could cry while Lone only seems bewildered but mostly at a loss for words. "I think you need to go to a specialist bro. That is a lot." He says eventually. Voice even. And they talk about it for a little longer before switching to something else.

       He stays there for most of the day, raiding Lone's kitchen and helping the other with cooking, deciding to leave just as the sun is setting. He feels lighter on the drive back, even with this foreboding feeling resting in the back of his mind. He ignores it and focuses on the road, that is until he sees the same stranger from his dreams standing with their arms behind them in the centre of the road and loses controles of his vehicle. As his car swerves out of control he can't help but notice how the setting sun causes the stranger to look almost ethereal in its glow as their lips pursed and their eyes glow in absolute delight! As Brent grimaces unconsciously and then loses consciousness.

***

       The next time Brent wakes, it is to disturbingly bright fluorescent lights that force him to shut his eyes again and has him blinking wildly as he turns away.

       But then his heart beat rises exponentially on the monitor as he stares at the stranger from his dreams. With insides as cold as ice and face startlingly pale he forces out a soft,hoarse, "Who are you?" He watches the stranger's eyes glint but is then shocked numb as a nurse rushes into the room and passes through the stranger. Blind to their very existence. He falls back unto the hospital bed unseeing of the doctors buzzing about him.