a story as endless as the ocean . pjo / allie jackson

0.1 nightmare blunt rotation

0.1 As Ke$ha Once Said, "I Am Cannibal" Except I'm Not the Cannibal, I Just Get Attacked By Some

My nightmare started like this:

I was standing on a deserted street in some little beach town. It was the middle of the night. A storm was blowing. Wind and rain ripped at the palm trees along the sidewalk. Pink and yellow stucco buildings lined the street, their windows boarded up. A block away, past a line of hibiscus bushes, the ocean churned.

Florida, I thought. Though I wasn't sure how I knew that. I'd only been to Florida a few times, and I knew I'd never been there. Miami, Jacksonville, Tallahassee, Key West, Tampa Bay, and Orlando were the only places I'd ever been to. Most of which happened on the same road trip. This was none of those places.

Then I heard hooves clattering against the pavement. I turned and saw my friend Grover running for his life. I was instantly worried, because I hadn't seen him since last July, when he set off alone on a dangerous quest, a quest that no satyr had ever returned from.

Anyway, in my dream, Grover was running as fast as he could, holding his human shoes in his hands the way he only does when he needs to move fast. He clopped past the little tourist shops and surfboard rental places. The wind bent the palm trees almost to the ground.

I could tell that Grover was terrified of something behind him. He must have just come from the beach. Wet sand was caked in his fur. He'd escaped from somewhere. He was trying to get away from... something.

A bone-rattling growl cut through the storm. Behind Grover, at the far end of the block, a shadowy figure loomed. It swatted aside a street lamp, which burst in a shower of sparks.

Grover stumbled, whimpering in fear. "Have to get away," he muttered urgently to himself. "Have to warn them!"

I couldn't see what was chasing him, but I could hear it muttering and cursing. The ground shook as it got closer. Grover dashed around a street corner and faltered. He'd run straight into a dead-end courtyard full of shops. No time to back up. The nearest door had been blown open by the storm.

The sign above the darkened display window read: ST. AUGUSTINE BRIDAL BOUTIQUE. Grover dashed inside and dove behind a rack of wedding dresses.

The monster's shadow passed in front of the shop. I could smell the thing— a sickening combination of wet sheep wool and rotten meat and that weird sour body odor only monsters have, utterly indescribable and disgusting.

Grover trembled behind the wedding dresses. The monster's shadow passed on.

Silence except for the rain. Grover took a deep breath. Maybe the thing was gone?

Then lightning flashed. The entire front of the store exploded, and a monstrous voice bellowed: "MIIIIINE!"

I sat bolt upright, shivering in my bed.

There was no storm. No monster.

The sun wasn't even in the sky yet. It was only five. My Upper West Side penthouse, the one I'd bought for when I was in the city for school, seemed to know me well, because the heat kicked on.

"Good morning, Miss Jackson," Nate said from behind my door. "Do you need anything? I could've sworn I heard you scream?"

Or maybe it was just the man I paid to be my PA.

"No, it's fine. Just a nightmare. I'll... be fine," I replied as he walked in. "Could you go get me some pancakes and bacon from that diner across the street, please? I'm going to get ready to go back to East Hampton for a few days. Though you don't have to leave now— I won't be here for a little bit. I'm feeling up for a morning jog."