The Puppet

The curtains were drawn tight, but the flashes of red and blue found their way through the black velvet. My eyelids were fluttering, threatening to close as I fought off the grasp of my dreams. Yet still, in the wake of my thoughts, the darkness won and closed my eyes into submission. My last thoughts were towards what happened outside my window just the day before...the reason behind those flashing lights.

The Ferris wheel spun slowly across the starry night sky. I was sitting next to Paul as he slipped his phone out, sent a text message, and then slowly slid it back into his pocket. The Ferris wheel stopped at the bottom and let us out.

"I'm glad we finally had the time to go and do this," I said. He rubbed his eye with a smug smile on his face. No matter how old he became, he always had that same smile.

"Me too, Rebekah." He wrapped his arm around my shoulders. We started walking and looked at each other for a moment. As I turned forward, I ran into a street lamp right in front of me. When I stood up from the ground, though, it wasn't a street lamp. I was standing in front of the refrigerator; my feet were flat against the cold tile floor. 'Not again,' I thought to myself as I made my way back to my bedroom and into my warm bed covers. I had taken my medication before bed, but sometimes it still didn't seem to work. I hoped that the neighbors wouldn't hear me tonight. 'Control your dreams. Lucid dream,' I thought before falling back into the depths of my mind.

The sun was bright in the sky; I ran through the sand. 'Wait, don't run,' I told myself. 'You're not really awake.' I walked over to Paul as he took buckets of sand and dumped them for another epic sand castle that we would make.

"I'm not really sleeping," I told him placing my hands on my hips.

"Well, of course you are!" he laughed. The waves rushed by and sunk my feet farther into the sand. 'Maybe I am awake,' I thought, but then a voice filled my ears and the sun turned dark.

The shadow behind me lingered; my body was like a magnet. I was being pulled to the wall. My arms were lifting up as if they were attached to strings. I was his puppet and I answered to the command of his voice.

"R," the deep voice quietly beckoned. Air raced through my lungs and my muscles strained. I traced the letter onto the wall with my fingers. 'Where did Paul go? I'm in his house?' My thoughts were soon forgotten with the sound of the word pounding deep into my skull. I could still feel the deepness of his voice vibrating through my ears as I traced a letter U on the wall. 'No! This isn't right. What's going on?' My hands were stained with black ink and it dripped onto the white carpet below.

"N," the shadow whispered. My hands zigzagged across the white paint. My fingers ran dry as the ink ran out. 'This isn't real. Paul was never here. He died this morning.'

My eyes flashed open. I sat up with my body shaking although my heart soon slowed to the comfort of being awake. My eyes turned to my curtains, however they were no longer my black velvet curtains. They were purple. I looked down at the white floor as if my carpet had been covered in a frosty snow blanket as I slept. I was sitting on a couch in the middle of a dark and desolate living room. Ink dripped from my hands as I stared up at the bold word written on the wall: RUN.

"No," the deep voice said behind me. My heart dropped through my chest and I thought as if I would fall down with the terror. Turning, I saw him. He was wearing a black suit, cell phone in his hand recording a video. He knew my secret. He knew my rare disorder forced me into acting out my dreams every night. He knew it and he was using me.

"No!" I tried calling out, but a hand clasped over my mouth and I was dragged away. My nightmare hadn't just ended, my nightmare had just begun.