Bear Illusions

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This short story is a special treat for all you suspense and psychological lovers. I hope you enjoy xD This story successful made me nervous, which is actually rather comical.  I can watch The Walking Dead before going to bed, but for some reason writing this story freaked me out and I found it hard to sleep, weird I know.

This story is dedicated to Vexsten for being such an awesome friend, thank you :3

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The world of imagination is a wondrous place, full of magnificent splendours and longing dreams, but underlying the grandeur of the fabricated world is something dark and dangerous. Not many know of its existents and those who do take great pains to keep it under wraps.  I am one of those few who experienced the greatest terror of the imaginary world, and when I say great terror I do not refer to a nightmare. It happened on the 1st of April 1996, exactly 20 years ago. It was the day I received a distressing letter from my grandmother, the day I learnt of my ancestral disorder, the day I discovered I was not normal and the day the Bear Illusions began.    

Monday morning greeted me with grey clouds and a heavy down pour. Of course on the first day of my long awaited school break God would deem it fit to rain. I peered outside my window with disdain. I hated the rain with a passion, it had never been kind to me with its unseemly timing, always raining when I wanted out and miraculously ceasing when I desperately needed an excuse to stay home in my comfortable inviting bed. I pulled one of my favourite books from the shelf, Ink Heart.  Yes its beautiful poetic style can be taxing to read, but nothing near the task of reading The Lord of the Rings.  I loved the book due its concept, that wonderful concept of people gifted with the silver tongue.  I relaxed in bed as I read, wishing desperately that I could join the adventure, but at the same time fearing that if I voiced that thought it might very well come true, and so my mouth remain shut.

An hour later a knock at the door woke me up; my body had nodded off to sleep without my consent. 'Doors unlocked,' I called, closing the still opened book in my lap and placing it on the nightstand. The door creaked open and my mother poked her nose through the gap her hand following soon after, something held rather tightly in her hand. She didn't come in, she didn't even finish opening the door, and that creeped me out a little, okay not a little, a lot, it was just so out of character. 'It's a letter from your grandmother,' her muffled voice said as she dropped the letter and retreated. 'You mean from Nonna?' I called out after her, an almost inaudible reply from down the hall replied with a cold, 'no.'

I got up and lifted the envelope from the floor; sitting back down on my soft red bed sheets I studied the return address. Mum was right; it definitely wasn't from Nonna, which meant it had to be from her, the eighty-four year old grandmother I never met and to this day still have not met. I tentatively opened the crisp white envelope and read the words inside, with evident growing excitement as my grip on the piece of paper tightened.

My dear grandson,

I am going to tell you of something extraordinary, something that my Grandfather told me when I was your age exactly 67 years ago in the year 1929. He told me that our family was special because we possessed a unique disorder that tampers with our brains. I did not believe him at first but soon I came to realise that my grandfather was no raconteur. He told me to be very careful with what I thought about, what I wished for, because on the first of April those thoughts and wishes could come true. It's not magic that does it for our family; we've never been superstitious either. No, the disorder causes our brains to see unwanted illusions, and what better a day too see illusions than the day when our ancestors told their grandchildren the truth about our heritage, more commonly thought of as our curse. Our first illusion comes in different forms, each suited to our characters best, mine own was of a stag, a might stag taller than the empire state building. I will leave the description of my illusion there however, as it may influence your first illusion and I promise you this, you don't ever want to experience my personal terror. This letter is merely a warning to you my dear, be careful tonight, don't turn off the bed light, and most certainly don't close your eyes.

All the best,

Grandmother Granger

A shiver ran down my back once I'd finished reading the brief letter, my fingers cold and stiff as they slipped the piece of paper back into the envelope, placing it on my nightstand. I thought about her words, they seem almost too good to be true, yet I greatly wished for them to be true. I left the confinement of my bedroom to seek out my mother in the hopes of getting answers regarding to her odd behaviour. But the house was empty, void of all life except my own shallow breathing as steps. I climbed the creaky flight of stairs back to my bedroom and went ridged and I glazed outside in horror. It was pitch black. My eyes panned around my bedroom, finding the old 19th century clock and noting that the hour and minute hands showed eleven fifty-nine, the second hands were not moving. A tremendous crash came from the other side of the floor boards under my feet, accompanied by loud grunts and groans. My heart began to raise and I though desperately what the sound may have been, what might have made it. Grandmother Granger had said that it would be something that suited my character, what character?  I sleep most of the time, especially during the dreary cold season. I eat the strangest foods for a seventeen year old boy, generally fish and honey puffs will get me ecstatic. I love to read, to go fishing, to spend time with family; I'm overly protective of my pet goldfish! What on earth would suit my character, a giant Perch (A/N type of fish)?!

The groans grew closer and soon the creaking of the staircase began, I fumbled and fell against the light switch, accidentally flicking it off. I stopped breathing as reality hit, I had just broken my grandmother first piece of advice and how was I supposed to keep my eyes open, I needed to blink! I could feel myself hyperventilating, why had I ever wished for this, why only moments before had I wished for what the letter said to be true! I wasn't breathing, I was panicking and I was frustrated and scared, but I knew that I had to stay calm immediately. I moved backwards and crawled up what I hoped was my bed; it was too dark to even tell where the door was situated. I lay there in silence listening to the animal – I had justifiably concluded that it was some kind of animal – closed in one my bedroom and on me. Beads of sweat lined my forehead and trailed down my cheeks, the beast's clamour was so loud now that I new it was merely a metre of two away. I felt a suddenly hot and vile breath hit my face causing me to gag. All too soon I felt something wet and cold against my skin and my body reared in disgust and fear. My hands automatically started to fumble behind me looking for something to defend myself with and successfully clutched onto something metal.

I flicked my wrist back in an attempt to hit the creature in the face, only to scream as a sudden bright light flared in front of me revealing the grotesque head of a black bear. I dropped the torch in my hand and moved as far back as I was able. But it made no difference. The beard hoisted the end of my bed up, revealing my quivering form. The torch had been kicked to the other side of the room facing away from the massive silhouette of the beast before me, I squeezed my eyes shut, preparing myself for the ends and the bear descended upon me. This is it I thought, this is how I will die, and then a low growl voiced the words, 'April Fools Day.'

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April Fools day! I wrote this at the beginning of this week in anticipation for this day; I was so excited when I wrote it that it was almost 3am when I went to sleep. So please be grateful for my efforts by commenting and voting * . *

In case you didn't understand the story, I'll explain. The letter from his grandmother was real and she told the truth, the family had a tradition where the grandparents would tell their grandchildren that they had a disorder that allowed their wishes and thoughts to come true. But what she doesn't say in the letter is that those wishes and thoughts come true because the parents of the targeted grandchild set up a prank. There are multiple clues in the letter; because the grandmother says 'on the first of April those thoughts and wishes could come true' which should immediately ring alarm bells in your head. However it's so cleverly written that the poor boy didn't catch the hint.

I honestly believe that this would be an awesome family tradition and it's too bad my family aren't this inventive.

Thank you for Reading! :)