Short Stories & Compositions

Earth

   I had the dream again. The one of space. It's a reoccurring dream that comes to me often, but not often enough. Many people have reoccurring dreams in the form of nightmares. I don't. I welcome this dream. It's my only escape from my depressing reality. It starts off nearly the same. I am floating through nothingness hundreds of thousands of miles from Earth. Breathing in oxygen which never existed in the first place. I wonder if anyone else has dreams like this. If anyone else dreams about breaking free from their everyday life. About running away from their problems and struggles. Going to a new world, or finding a new place. In my case that place is space. I find shelter in the vast emptiness, warmth in the deep cold, and happiness despite the fact that space is a desolate wasteland. It feels like my true home. No one can judge me. No one can hurt me. The dream begins to differ here. Instead of the usual me suffocating before waking up, millions of large meteors come from some distant part of space and pummel into the Earth. My eyes widen and I scream at the sight, but no sound comes out. This is space, after all. Chunks of rock break off the planet in which I live and I am helplessly forced to watch as Earth falls apart. This is not what I wanted. This is my fault. It's always my fault. I tried to leave, but ended up destroying everything I've ever known in the process. The suffocating feeling comes at last. I gasp for breaths as the pressure builds in my chest. I don't want the release now. I want to live. I want to fix what I've done. The only way I can make things right is if I stay on Earth. My sudden will to live has an unimaginable impact. My lungs are filled with air and time seems to slow down before undoing itself. This time the meteors don't come, and Earth orbits as it should. This time I don't run out of crucial oxygen, and I can breathe freely. This time I don't jolt awake at 4 AM, and instead slowly blink my eyes open at 9 AM. I'm still as sick I was before, but I decide to get help. Things won't just magically be right. There will still be tough times. I just hope that the next time I dream, it's of something other than cold, empty space.