Metal

Just Another Dream

To this very day, I still fall victim to fear. The kind of fear that leaves you with cold sweats and your entire being shaking. It strips you of your courage and fills you with horrors you would had never thought were real. You try to deny them, but your being is filled with dismay as the cold reality you dreaded so much creeps in and lets you know that the feeling of horror you thought were fiction are as real as the feeling they gave you. You can put yourself in denial or run to the ends of the earth to avoid it. But eventually these fears will find you. The question is, will you try to conquer the fear or let it control you?

I’d encourage you to face that fear with courage, but then that would make me a hypocrite. How can I tell you to do something, I myself have not done it yet. Not from a lack of trying, but from an abundance of failures. Every night I relive the darkest moments of my life and there is nothing I can do about it. I can see exactly what’s coming but there's nothing I can do to stop it. All I can do is watch.

I couldn’t count at the time so I assume I was only nine years old. I didn’t have much to my name. Only an old cardboard refrigerator box I had been calling home for as long as I could remember the old raggedy clothes on my back. No food, no money, no warm house, and no family. But I didn’t care. As far as I was concerned, the streets were my family. No one could be trusted.

I rested my filthy dirt covered hands on my skinny stomach. The growling noise echoed through the dark alley. Something I never got used to was the hunger.

I strained myself to get out of my not so humble abode. I had found this old box while I was scavenging. Same goes for the old tattered orange shirt I was wearing and the ript cargo shorts. I still needed to find myself a pair of shoes. I don’t think trashbags held onto your feet by rubber bands count.

I couldn’t help but feel dizzy. I had gotten up too fast. The hunger was getting to me worse than usual. These dizzy spells only came when I hadn’t eaten in days. But I needed to push through it if I wanted to live long enough to see tomorrow. This meant I would have to go foraging through garbage.

Again.

I gazed upon the night sky. Even in the city, the stars were shining at their brightest. The light illuminating from the moon was astounding. There was a peaceful serenity to the night and it made me sick. All it would do is remind me of the one thing I was told I would never have.

Hope.

I slowly trudged down the dark alley and made my way into the city. Sticking to the shadows, I made my way to the nearest cul de sac. I was too tired to walk my way to the pizzeria and eat their scraps. But I had to be careful anywhere I went. A few nights ago, I had made the terrible mistake  of digging through the sheriff’s garbage. The sick man unleashes his hellhound on me whenever someone makes a complaint about me. Somehow, I always get away with my life, but not my pride.

I had now made my way into a backyard of some random house. I could feel the dew through the holes in my makeshift shoes. I didn’t even bother to check to see who’s house it was. I was just too hungry to care.

It was no problem spotting the trashcans, avoiding the windows was the real problem. The lights were on inside the windows. I took to the ground and army crawled to avoid being seen. I made my way towards my bounty and carefully took the lids off.

Before I started ripping away at the plastic bagging, I decided to take just a quick peep into the house. Sitting at a big table was a little boy and girl who both had the happiest looks on their faces I had ever seen. Greeting them with a freshly cooked roast was a beautiful woman. She had to be the mother. My mouth watered as I watched her gingerly place the roast on the table. My drooling had come to an abrupt stop when I watched those children hug their mother.

I grabbed my chest in pain. My heart actually stung at the sight of this spectacle. I yearned for their lives. To have a nice warm home to come to every night. Clothes that actually fit me and shoes that were not made from plastic. Never having to deal with the hunger. But what I really wanted was a mom.

Just someone to love me...

I kept watching until the father came into the picture. He had a lit cigar in his mouth and he wore an old western hat. His facial hair was clean but rugged. His attire was so fancy. He was wearing a dress suit. He looked so familiar...

Oh no!

The man spotted me and dropped his cigar. He stopped hugging his children and started pointing at me. I could feel his hatred as he glared at me. I had made a grave mistake.

This was the sheriffs house.

I backed away and quickly started running. Adrenaline was giving me the strength that the hunger had taken away. The fear of death was looming over my shoulder. I could feel my little heart thumping hard, I was so scared.  I tried to get as much distance as I could get because I knew what was coming next.

The hellhound.

I could hear the rage in the sheriff’s voice. “Don’t let that parasite get away! I want him dead!”

I could feel the sweat pouring down my forehead as I ran. I could hear the hellhound getting closure. It was getting so hard to breathe. My legs were getting so tired, but I couldn’t stop. I was heading in the direction of a forest so I decided to cut through it. This just made it harder on myself since I had to dodge every tree and bush in my way.

It felt like I was going to make it out alive. I couldn’t hear the hellhounds paws anymore. Maybe for once things were finally going my way. Maybe there is ho-

“Augh!”

My footing had been disrupted by a tree root and I tripped. I quickly tried to get up, but when I looked forward, I was paralyzed with fear.

Standing several feet away was the hellhound. It had finally caught me. I could see  the hunger in it’s black fire eyes. It’s fur was all shaggy and dirty. It bared its rows of razor sharp teeth at me. It’s muscled twitched with a sadistic excitement.  It slowly started heading in my direction.

There was nowhere to run. This couldn’t be it, no it just couldn’t be! I was just a kid. I couldn’t even cry, I couldn’t move, I couldn’t even scream because the fear was just too much.

The hellhound broke out in a sprint. Desperate, I grabbed the nearest stick. It lunged! I swung as hard as I could, but the stick just broke in half when it made impact on the hellhounds head. This just made it angrier. I screamed as he dug his fangs into my forearm.

*******************

“NO!”

I shot up out of my blankets screaming. I was breathing so hard. My heart felt as if it were about to explode at any moment. I was drenched in my own sweat. This feeling was something that no one could get used to.

Sometimes, I just want to ask why. Why am I plagued with these images of my past? Why am I forced to relive these nightmarish events in my sleep every night? Why is it just me and nobody else? Just why?

I wish I could say it was just a nightmare, but I know it wasn’t. This was my past.