Dream Of Me

Chapter Six

Hello readers! I just wanted to do a quick authors note regarding this chapter. This one is going to get a bit graphic, and violent. I wanted to warn anyone who feels like they can't handle this sort of thing, or that it might trigger. The last thing I want is to cause someone who is ultra sensitive anxiety. You could easily skip the dream parts and still get the jist of the story. Just in case there are a few of you who would like to continue reading, but skip the gruesome parts I will make sure to post a warning before these chapters. Thank you for reading as always!
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I found myself in a room. A room with light blue walls. Lace curtains. My room, or at least my old one. The one I had before..

I heard a scream from downstairs. My mother's scream. I had heard it before, and it's never left me. Oli. I need to go get him NOW. I run out of the room, and down the hallways towards his. He is standing in the doorway, crying.

I grab him as gently as possible. Running back to my room, I cover his mouth to muffle his screams. Keep him quiet. I knew what was happening, and I began to cry quietly myself. Going back into my room I open the closet door and got us inside. Sitting down, keeping Oli in my lap, I began to whisper to him, begging him to stay quiet.

I had an urge to go downstairs. Try and stop what was about to happen, but I knew it was no good. This isn't real. Isn't real. Micah's words echoed in my head.

It felt real, horrifyingly real. I heard my father's scream. Screaming mom's name, begging for life.

"Please! I have children!" I heard him cry.

This part was new to me. He hadn't said this before, not wanting the murderer to come looking for us. I was suddenly shaking. He was going to come for us, I could feel it. I thought briefly about trying to escape through the window, but it was to high up, and there was nothing to climb onto. Oli was only three, and probably wouldn't make the jump.

I heard footsteps. Loud, heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. My heart beating so fast that it felt like it was going to come out of my chest. I shoved Oli behind me, hoping that if he opened the door He would only see me.

He walked into the room.

Every second, waiting for him to discover us, was torture. Then it happened. He opened the door, and I saw him. I began to cry harder. I had seen the pictures of him in the news. I had seen the video of his arrest. I had never seen him in person. I could not have predicted the effect seeing him, standing there in front of me, holding a knife, and covered in my family's blood would have.

He grinned an awful grin, and my body felt like ice. He grabbed my collar, and dragged me out of the closet. I tried to move. To kick, punch, fight. Anything, but I was paralysed. Completely unable to move. He moved towards me with the knife, until he heard Oli's whimpers. He looked behind me and smiled even harder. I wanted to scream. I wanted to tell him no. To take me instead. Kill ME.

He walked around me to the closet, yanking Oli out and throwing him onto the floor in front of me. He screamed and cried for help. I wanted so badly to lie over him, protect him, but I couldn't. I couldn't do anything. I couldn't look away, couldn't close my eyes. I didn't want to see what was about to happen. Hearing it was bad enough.

The man looked at me.

"Watch this."

He stuck the knife into Oli's stomach.
He yelped, and screamed.
My urge to scream was the most overwhelming feeling I have ever had. I wanted to yell. I wanted to beg. I wanted to scream that he was only a baby. A poor innocent toddler. What had he done to deserve this?

His screaming died down to a whimper. His breathing slowed, and then stopped. He was dead, looking at me with lifeless eyes, face stuck in agony.

Not real. NOT REAL.

The dream faded. I had a moment of peace. Not real peace, but better than I had just felt.

Next thing I knew I was back in my old room as if it had never happened.
I screamed.

"Not again! I can't do it again!"

The next six hours felt like an eternity. I relived the situation, but each time the ending changed. Oli was killed a different way. I was killed. The pain felt so real. NOT the kind of phantom pain you feel in a normal dream. Real, tangible pain. Heart stopping, overwhelming.

Suddenly I was awake. Drenched in sweat, face covered in tears, throat raw from screaming. I opened my eyes, but the light burned so I closed them for a moment longer. Trying to get myself together. Taking deep breaths, my heart stilled.

I finally opened my eyes and sat up. Relief washed over me as I realised it was over, but the dread from knowing I only had to come back and do this tomorrow quickly pushed that away. I looked around and saw several other people waking up, in the same disheveled state as me.

I looked to my right, and the nameless boy was standing there. "You are free to go. Please return to your room."

I stood up. Not knowing how to feel. I was strangely numb. My body was sore from tensing up, and my mind was foggy, probably a side effect of the sedative. I walked towards the door to leave, looking at the people that passed by. None of them would look me in the eye. How long had they been here? How long do these people usually last?

I got to the door and was relieved to find Micah standing there when it opened. I needed his friendship more than I thought I would. His eyes looked sympathetic.

"Are you alright?" was the first thing he asked me, and as soon as he said it the numbness left me and my eyes flooded with tears. I shook my head. I wasn't alright.

He held out his hand to me.

"Come on, let's get back to your room."

I nodded and took his hand. The warmth coming from it was like glue, holding me together.