"Just a nightmare," I whispered to myself, trying to calm my racing heart. It was a phrase that had become my mantra over the past few months, ever since the accident. But this nightmare had been different. It had felt so real, so vivid. It had brought back memories that I didn't want to remember, memories of a time when I was happy and carefree.
I took a deep breath and tried to push the memories away. But they kept coming, flooding my mind like a tidal wave. I saw myself running through the park, laughing with my friends. I saw myself sitting on a bench, watching the world go by. I saw myself kissing my girlfriend, feeling like nothing could ever go wrong.
And then I saw the accident. The screech of brakes, the sickening crunch of metal, the screams of pain. I felt the impact of the car hitting me, felt my body flying through the air like a rag doll. And then...nothing. Darkness.
I shook my head, trying to clear the memories away. They were too painful, too raw. I didn't want to remember that time, didn't want to think about what had been lost. But at the same time, I couldn't help but long for it. To be carefree again, to be happy again...
"Just a nightmare," I repeated, my voice stronger this time. I took another deep breath and opened my eyes. The world looked a little brighter, a little less bleak. Maybe I wasn't completely lost. Maybe there was still hope.
I got out of bed and walked over to the window. The sun was just starting to rise, casting a warm glow over the city. For a moment, I let myself believe that everything was going to be okay. That I could still find a way to be happy again, even if it wasn't the same as before.
"Just a nightmare," I said, this time with a smile. "Just a nightmare, remember?"
YOU ARE READING
The stranger under the willow tree
Short StoryOn a frigid and blustery October evening, the radiant moon cast its glow upon a solitary willow tree, perched atop a hill. Beneath the tree sat a mysterious man, clutching a large, worn storybook. Suddenly, his gaze was drawn to a child, no more tha...