QUESTION REALITY
Juliet woke up in a cold sweat. What had awoken her? A noise. A very high-pitched noise to be exact. And a nightmare. A nightmare that made her question reality.
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Juliet's POV
Walking into my room, my feet are cushioned by carpet. It's so colorful, but I hate it. The color doesn't match anything and it is old and worn. I sit down on my bed and it squeaks.
Just like everything else in this goddamn house.
I lay down, tossing and turning to be in the perfect position of comfort. I always knew 'perfect' didn't exist. Closing my eyes, I snuggle in the blankets, trying to find warmth. Even with the heater on, this entire house is freezing cold. Hours seem to pass as I stare at the ceiling without interest.
Eventually I drift into unconsciousness and find myself dreaming. Trying to reach the perfect ending, I attempt to control my dream. Since all I wanted was sleep, I decide to give up in doing so.
I wake up. My back is aching and a sound is ringing in my ears.
Why does my back hurt so much?
Groggy, it takes me a few seconds to take in my surroundings. I'm on a sidewalk...in the city. A black-and-white city. Everything is colorless. The pavement below me is rough and cold. A small blanket is covering my legs, and a can next to me is filled with only a few coins. Startled, I jump to my feet. The building next to me has many windows, so I look at my reflection. I look like I haven't bathed in weeks.
My stomach growls at me, demanding for food. Bending down, I grab the can and count the amount of money it contains.
23 cents. Shit.
What could I buy? I didn't even have a quarter's worth! Maybe someone would give me some donations. Maybe if I begged them. Maybe if I pleaded. Maybe.
Maybe I'm just crazy. Maybe I'm hallucinating. Maybe.
Time passed by. Only a few charitable people gave me change. By dusk, I only had 27 cents. I cuddle into my blanket. Darkness envelops the entire city except for the few lights.
I miss those carpets. So soft and warm. So colorful...
Dreams overtake me. The noise rings again, louder this time.
I'm in a fluffy white bed filled with cushy pillows and smooth sheets. Sunlight is flowing through the curtains, lightening the entire room.
"Good morning. It's nice to see you awake," spoke a deep voice.
"Wha-" I look around the room only to find the person who's voice it belonged to. I'm alone except for a handsome man with chocolate-brown hair.
"I mean, it's nice to see you, too," I smile. The man seems perfect. He leans in for a kiss and I stare into his green eyes. Our lips are about to touch and-
I'm awake again. The screeching noise gives me a headache, as if my head will explode.
I move my hands, so they can cradle my head, but they are blocked. Wood. I'm encased in a wooden box. I pound against my cage, but it doesn't budge. I repeat this cycle while screaming for help, but nothing works.
My last sliver of hope motivates me to push one last time and the box opens.
Only to let dirt pour into the box.
I grunt in frustration and start digging with my hands. By the time I make a small amount of progress, I'm out of breath and I'm caked with dirt. It's under my fingernails and smeared everywhere else. I make one false move and the dirt avalanches into the box, removing my only source of air.
More like a coffin.
I wake up in a cold sweat. The sound is much fainter, and I relax myself a bit. I'm in my room. Is it really my room? Or is it another dream in which I'll wake up from soon. I hug my pillow, showing my gratitude. Running down the stairs, I grab a piece of paper and a pencil and write down a small note. As a reminder.
Grabbing my car keys, I leave the house and drive to the nearest restaurant open for breakfast. I place my order and open my napkin to reveal my fork, knife, and spoon. The plate of food is brought to me by a waitress. I'm about to dig in, but the knife is missing.
Then I hear a painful sound.
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Tomorrow News Today
Tuesday, July 13, 2043
Police detectives have confirmed that Juliet Maels was murdered at a local restaurant by Julian Michaels. Julian has been said to work with chemicals that make people halluccinate. He is normally seen in all black clothing during the late hours. If you see him, please be careful and tell the police.
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Here's the note that Juliet wrote:
Ungrateful little me
Well I've learned my lesson
There is still no such thing as perfect
Unless it is only a dream
And not all dreams come true
And some dreams I don't want to come true
I'll cherish every moment of life
Unlike the ungrateful little me of the past
Thank you for reading! All similarities or coincidences are false. This is completely a work of fiction and my imagination.
