Dreamcatcher (ONC 2020)

4

For a few moments, I just stand in the middle of the sidewalk as cars fly past me, trying to regain my eyesight. My brain is muddled with shock. The last of the feathers left behind by the woman slowly float down onto the ground. Everything is a blur.

What just happened?

I slowly crouch down, touching the palms of my hands against the cold cement beneath me. The various shades of dark colors swirl around me; the crisp air momentarily warms up around my face as I exhale. What the hell do I do now?

Then it hits me. Bailee. I need to make sure she's okay. I hastily look around for her. With my terrible eyesight, she looks more like a swirl of sandy brown colors than a golden retriever.

"Hey," I say softly. Bailee whines at me and cowers slightly. I lightly inspect her, feeling for the wound that the woman gave her. My fingers touch something wet on her flank, and when I turn to look at them, they're stained red.

I wince. Then I pull her closer—gently, without making the wound worse—and let the fur on her neck brush against my cheek. "I'm sorry, Lee. Wait here a sec, 'kay?" I murmur. "There's something I have to do real quick."

After giving Bailee one last reassuring pet on her head, I let go of her and walk off. My eyesight is quickly getting better with each step I take, and the apartment building ahead starts to become clearer. The wind sails past me, restless, and sweeps off my hood in the process. For some reason, I can't get the woman's damned words out of my mind. Those words uncover too many memories, too many things that I'd rather never think about again.

Maybe it was a bit too traumatizing for poor Mr. Hill.

I'm about 96% certain that there's no way that woman is working alone. The smoke when she disappeared was a dead giveaway—she's bound to someone. There's someone else behind this, someone else hiding in the wings. But who is that other person? And are there even more dreamcatchers besides those two? Why have I never seen them until today? Question after question surfaces in my mind, but I don't have the answer to any of them.

Soon, I'm standing in front of the apartment complex again. It looks menacing, towering over me, and I feel so small. But there's no time to fret—I need to check up on Mr. Hill, then get the hell out of here. So I race up the stairs once again, telling myself that it's better to be safe than sorry.

I stop at the window again and peek in to make sure it's the right one. Sure enough, the lady's mess from earlier is still there. I hesitate, wondering if I should really go in to check. What if it's a trap? What if you go in, and the person behind this is waiting for you in the darkness?

I shake off my thoughts and slip in through the window. My feet sound awfully loud as they hit the wooden floor, but the sleeping Mr. Hill doesn't stir. The pounding of my heart seems to take up the entire room. I tiptoe past the fallen items over to the edge over the bed. Mr. Hill doesn't even shift in his sleep. I hope he's just a deep sleeper. After a few more moments of hesitation, I grab the covers and finally pull them back.

Mr. Hill's face gleams dark silver. His eyes are wide and blank, fixed on some point far, far away up above. His mouth is slightly open, with a small drop of drool hanging on the side. But what concerns me the most is how still he is. His breaths are so shallow, it's almost as if he's not breathing at all.

I wave my hand over his face, but Mr. Hill doesn't react in the slightest. I poke him in the shoulder. "Hey... Mr. Hill? Are you there?"

Mr. Hill opens his mouth to say something, but to my dismay, it's just some meaningless babbling. I try various methods of getting him to respond to me—shaking his shoulders, clapping in front of him, whisper-yelling his name, even pinching his arm. His skin feels terribly clammy against mine, but it might just be because my hands are sweating like crazy—I don't know.