Cliché

Chapter 18

I woke up in a cold sweat,the damp sheets swirled around me seeming to hold remnants of my dream. My breathing came out soft but rushed,questions swirling in my head.
One question rose to the the top "what was Max doing there"
I thought of reasons and one reason for such a vivid dream was that, I had remembered some Video game and was meshing it with my real life. As I thought about it more though it became more realistic at Least compared to my other thought;
Which was that I could predict the future. I know crazy right. The game theory was sounding more possible the more I thought about it.
So I don't know why I got out of my warm bed, I barely realized when I walked toward Max's paper stash and I don't even know how I found the pencil in the dim light filtering in through the thin curtains. As I replayed the dream again and again through my head my body was on auto pilot. My hand flew across the paper as the dream  played in my head in slow motion every detail was exposed. Watching like a bystander ,or in this setting, a ghost I watched the scene unfold. A war raged in my mind as my hand soared across the paper. There was dust and blood,screams and shouts, fighting lots and lots of fighting. It was  war.
  All of a sudden there was that one moment the one that had jared me awake. He was there on the ground a pool of blood seeping out the red turned scarlet in the blazing sun. His green eyes contrasting with the pool he was laying in. His face was smeared with dirt, and his brown waves were tangled and matted,his body was twisted so much that any human would never be able to survive it. I guess that meant he wasn't human. The only thing that was recognizable were his eyes still raging with spirit and a will to live.

    A pain in my stomach boomed I was thrown off my feet and dragged up up up towards the sky. I tried to find max again my eyes frantic as they skirted along the ground that quickly grew distant. But I couldn't find him,and to me that was more painful than the pain in my stomach of the lack of oxygen as I was being dragged up and up then finally, I was back. My head jerked back like someone had pulled too hard on my hair and my seat wobbled on its back legs before I grabbed the desk and steadied myself. I took a deep breath to calm my self and rubbed my neck. The back of my hand brushed my chin and came back wet. As I touched my face I felt tears. I hadn't even know I had started crying. The dream was just too real. I finally started to understand that there might be a possibility that my dreams or...visions might be real.
The last clue to that that mystery sat on the desk. My eyes moved to the paper in an urgent but painfully reluctant way. My sketch roughly resemble Alex a drawing of his side profile down to his shoulders on them I could see light pencil lines of armor. My eyes wandered down more and I saw the word WINNER scribbled under him.
Alex was the winner. The Winner of what?