Dreams

Chaos

The world is a little blurry, and I find myself standing on an unknown street, my mind a jumbled mess of random memories, and my brain trying to remember the solution to a math problem I am certain I have solved before.

The scene shifts a little, and I am standing in front of a cafe I am sure is in Santorini, a place I have only seen a few times in pictures. As I try to decipher what I am doing there, the skies turn darker, and people run hither and thither.

They scream in panic all around me, mentioning that the dark ones have arrived in their broken English, but I don't understand their fear until I see the cause of their agony arrive.

They are tall, covered in worn robes from head to toe. Had their aura not been so dark, I could have mistaken them for someone gripped in the astute shackles of poverty, but I can feel their dark magic from my position.

People scream at me not to look at them, but it's too late.

I stand there, my eyes stuck to what I assume is their hidden face as they slowly pull down their robes.

But before I can catch a glimpse of the monstrosity, the scene shifts, and I am in a car.

We move slowly on the crowded streets, trying to get away because the crowd is not a friendly one, when we see a person with long hair and a beard coming from the opposite side with a cycle, his hands glow golden as he grips the cycle bars. The minute he is near us, he does a quick flick of the hand that causes a blast, making the cycle disappear along with everyone on the street.

As I try to decipher what just happened, my heartbeat quickens, and I wake up to find myself sweating profusely in an air-conditioned room.