I wake with a start. My dream has left a cold sweat on the back of my neck.This one began the same as every other dream of mine:
A black haired tall boy wearing a super baggy black hoodie with his hood covering his face and torn skinny jeans, is at the edge of a precipitous cliff. Looking ready to jump. My dream always ends soon after I realize this one simple fact. I can't move though. Can't scream or make any noise, can't tell him to be careful or not to jump. But what I can do, is hope. Hope that he hears me or turns around. And it's at this point in my dream, that my wish comes true, he does turn around. But before I can even see his face or notice his eye color, he falls back, not making a sound, without arms flailing as he plummits down. It is always then that my legs begin to work again and I run to him. running to the edge of the cliff, I peer over, watching him fall again. And I know that as soon as his eyes close, I will wake up. I never know if he sees me or not though. But I think he does. Because every time he turns around, there is a slight pause. As if he's deliberating trying to fight the pull of gravity.
But this time is different. This time I don't wake when his eyes close. Instead he falls a few more feet and his hood comes off. for the first time ever, I get a good look at his face. His eyes reopen and he see's me there. His eyes are a bright polar blue and they stare into me. His lips move but I hear no sound.
And then he hits the ground.
...To Be Continued...
YOU ARE READING
Dreaming of him
FantasyIn the far future of New York is a 15 year old orphan who lives in an alleyway. Her name is Julie. No last name. No one except her orphan friend Noel who's 19, even knows she exists. Well, other than the boy in her dreams... See, Julie has this drea...