Trouble with Dakota

Untitled Part 1

Thud! Dakota fell from his bed again. That's the third night in a row this week. His nightmares were getting worse. Dakota staggered into the bathroom across the hall, fumbling for the light switch. Peering into the mirror and looking at himself, the bags under his eyes were getting darker. He splashed cold water onto his face, running his fingers through his dark hair.

"Fuck" he muttered to himself. It was early enough that he decided to shower. Dakota slipped off his boxers, danced, and then showered. He let the water run down his slender body. He ignored his morning wood. He needed to get out before his roommates got up.

Once back in his room, he slipped on some jeans, and then into his computer chair. He had a full day of editing ahead of him; he might as well get started early.

A few hours of editing later, Dakota's stomach growled reminding him to eat. He went to the kitchen grabbing an uncrustable from the freezer. "You alright man?" Al asked as he passed by Dakota.

"Yeah, why?"

"Dude it sounded like you fell out of your bed again."

"Fuck you heard that?"

"Uh, yeah it's pretty loud when the house is quiet."

"Wait why were you up?"

"I was chatting with someone," Al said with a wink.

"Oh god, I dont wanna hear it!" Dakota walked away making faces, giving Al the finger. Dakota closed his bedroom door plopping onto his bed. He tossed the uncrustable to his desk, which hit the desk before falling to the floor with a smack. He knew in a few hours he would be tired and want a nap. He didn't want to sleep though.

Dakota was breathing hard, he was lost. All he had was a flashlight that was losing power with each second. He was stumbling down a hallway in an old building. With each new turn, it just continued the hallway he was going down. There was no exit he began thinking. He began to run, trying to get around faster, faster. Then thud. He woke up on the floor. "You did it again!" He could hear from somewhere in the house. "Fuck you!" He yelled back slamming his hand on the bedroom floor.

It was decided, he was going back to that damn building. He's going to confront what fucked him up, he needed closure.

A few days later, Dakota pulled up to the building alone. He left his roommates behind as this was something he needed to do himself. His palms were sweaty, breathing heavily. He was anxious but ready.

He met with the owner who let him in. "You sure you want to go about this alone?" they asked. "Yep, I'm sure. I won't be long." Dakota replied confidently with a smile.

Dakota walked in turning on his flashlight scoping out the main room first, he did have a backup if this one was to be drained of power. He turned on his phone to start recording. He wanted to capture whatever may happen.

Stepping in cautiously, he remembered where the incident happened. Stepping over much debris he walked towards the hall.

Dakota's heartbeat began to beat loudly in his ears, he could feel each beat in his throat. His mouth grew dry, he licked his lips. Each footstep landed heavily against the concrete floor.

He was getting close. The air around him grew thick. The scent of decay surrounded him, causing him to choke a little. He should've brought his mask, it was in the car he could turn back. He fought against the idea, if he left now he would go entirely.

He had to go forward. There was nothing else in his mind. He had to conquer what was haunting him.

Running he was faster and faster he ran and ran every turn felt like an eternity. Then finally again

Everything came flashing back he stumbled. His flashlight flew from his hand, and his breath knocked out of him. It happened. Again

The same fucking toilet that started all this shit. He found it. He was here to confront the fucking thing.

He got up, dusting himself off, running his hands through his dark locks. He causually picks up his flashlight saying out loud, "so we meet again?"

His light flashing off the porcelain throne shattered, itself once beaten down by something else.

He stared down with such aggression, such loathing. "Finally, you and I mother fucker can square down". He said kicking it, stubbing his toe, but he paid no attention, he was ready for this.

He placed his flashlight on the ground, bottom up so the light flashed bright up towards the ceiling. He lifted a piece of the porcelain demon and held it over his head. He breathed in a big breath and releasing it the piece in his hands came crashing down. The sound echoed down the hall, clattering all around. Dakota let out a roar of triumph, picking up another, and throwing it against the ground. The white dust swirled around him. Coating him as it came in contact with his body. The shards danced on the ground before settling in its final resting place.

He pounded every last large piece into the ground. Dakota was out of breath, sweat dripping from his hair. He took off his shirt, wiping his face with it. His body was glistening, then dusty from the particles still dancing in the air. He did it.

As he walked out of the building, he began laughing to himself. All this for some fucking toilet? Yes. Yes, it was.

Dakota walked out into the moonlight shining off his glistening, dusted body. He threw his shirt over his shoulder, shook hands with the owner, got in his car, and went home.

He was finally able to sleep through the night.