I glanced about the room. A cheap hotel. Transient in its detachment. Still, I held onto the golden red colors. The bold hues added to the description of what it was. There was no view out the window. Unless you called a brick wall a view.
I flipped on the television. The screen flickered to life drawing out the bright and color images of Disney. I knew the character on the screen. I flipped the channels past War history, the news, and reality television. What was the point when I was making certain news not happen? I finally settled on a channel. Another cartoon but it had none of the saccharine sweetness that preceded broken dreams. It was the fat piglet that kept stuttering.
I sighed as I paced about the center of the room. My partner lay in bed. A soft sheen of sweat was on his brow. I mopped it up with a tissue and sniffed. It was a little bit chilly. I got up, changed the setting on the thermostat, and paced again. Too much time had passed, far too much time for anyone to not have checked in. For some reason, the room had gotten stuffy. Too stuffy.
A wave of fear washed over me. It wasn’t supposed to be that hot. I made a mad dash for the thermostat. It took me a second but it realized the room had shifted.
It had turned cold again. I shivered slightly. Why was there a sudden change in the temperature? Scientifically speaking…
My thought trailed off as I watched the television.
The Wizard of Oz played. The witch’s face filled the screen.
“I’ll get you. And, your little dog too.”
I blanched. My first thought was to run. And I did. The covers were pulled up over his face, a sure sign that something was off. I flipped the covers on the bed. He was gone. Instead, I saw a bleary eyed boy.
“Timothy?” The boy gave me a sleepy smile. He was a good kid, I knew, creepy and a little mentally unstable but good.
“Hey,” he said, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. Something was wrong. Where was he?
The screen behind me changed. On it was a woman. Her blonde hair was luxurious and her smile sinful.
The world seemed to slow down. Everything revolved around her. This whole case, blown wide open. I had seen it was her. I just hadn’t observed.
“You have run quickly, dear. Your little friend is in trouble.”
I dragged Timothy by the arm. His mother was in the room next. I could leave him and still find my partner. I let go as soon as I saw him enter the door way.
My feet took me down the hall. It kept stretching, door after door after door, and I hadn’t a clue if he was in any.
“Jack!” I heard my own desperate voice. “Jack! Jack!”
I could hear my voice echoing through the halls. Tears brimmed at my eyes.
“Jack! Jack! Jack!” It was a mantra.
My mind filled in the gaps. The pieces that seemed so hard to piece together were all in place.
“Jack, where are you?”
The hall started shifting, twisting with every step I took but, I couldn’t stop.
“Jack!”
Not when he was in trouble.
“Jack!”
Never when he was in trouble.
“Jack!”
I snapped awake with a name on my lips.
“Jack.”
Might as well mention now that I don't know a Jack. I rather like the name though. Strangely enough, that was the first name my mind pulled up. I remember floundering for a bit and then that name was emblazoned across my vision. I don't know why it struck a chord. Perhaps my subconcious is screaming something I don't understand. It wouldn't be the first time.
Well, I would have more to share, but the rest of my dreams end up something like "You have a destiny" and "Why do you fight yourself?". The rest of it sounds even more like a Kilgharrah I-am-The-Great-Dragon from Merlin. Why can't he just accept we will always think of him as The Slash Dragon?
YOU ARE READING
Dream Journal
Short StoryA collection of dreams. Some are scary, some are sweet. All are things I see in dreams.
