Dreams
Recently, I’ve noticed myself becoming more detached from reality. My family continues to tell me that they worry for me, and my social life has dissipated. Even when I do find the energy to make plans with someone, I hardly enjoy the time I spend with them. I find myself more often than not spending my several afternoon hours mindlessly browsing the internet then drifting off to sleep and into my dream world, and what a world it is.
Here, in this world, my mind is free. Streaks of bright color blow in the wind, like weightless paint. Long luscious fields of grass seem to stretch forever, and the only sounds are the sounds of the cool wind blowing and birds peacefully cooing in the distance. Here, in this world, everything is peaceful, everything is safe. I used to do nothing more than lay in the sweet scented grass and watch the colors fly by my face. The colors made a beautiful contrast to the bright blue sky. It never rained, and never snowed. It was never too cold, never too hot and the sun was always in just the right position. Everything was always perfect. At least it was, then the world started to change.
This world used to be my world, my escape. I didn’t have to deal with what made the waking world so horrid: crime, greed, depression. This was my place to be free, and to be alone. Then one day, others started to appear, other people. At least they seemed to be people. They looked like it and acted like it, however there was something about them that just didn’t seem real. I could never quite put my finger on it.
When these people first came to inhabit my world, I loathed them. They were nothing more than burdens getting between me and my tranquility. As time went on however I did come to accept them and even cherish their company at times, I even struck a conversation with them on occasion. They were very nice, accepting people. I would tell them how my social life was falling apart, they would empathize. They would tell me about their dysfunctional families, I would empathize. Things went on like this for a while. It was nice, I really liked these people. They were different. One day, I had a conversation that came across to me as particularly odd. When I talked to him he didn’t seem like the men and women I’d come to enjoy. He seemed more real, more like the many retched, selfish people in the waking world and none of the people that joined my world had ever before mentioned someone by name, but this man addressed his father by the name Gasper. After he concluded telling me how his day was going, we just stood there in awkward silence. I was looking up at the floating colors, when he whispered something ever so softly, “Has he found you yet?” I swiftly turned back to look at him, but he was gone.
All the next day, I couldn’t stop thinking about this man. I couldn’t focus in school, every thought I had about my class was just a cloudy mess that was quickly forgotten. I couldn’t even focus enough to find my way home from school. I missed my turn and had to walk back 2 blocks. All the while “Gasper” echoed in my head. I eventually found my way home, I didn’t even turn my computer on that day. I just layed down and listened to the voice echo in my head. “Gasper, Gasper, Gasper.” It continued to echo until I fell asleep.
The next few nights things went on as usual. My dream friends roamed the world and would lay next to me, trading stories and telling jokes. However I continued to run into strange conversations. These conversations became more prominent as the days went on. One man even told me he felt like the world was collapsing around him. I asked him why that was and he replied with “No, I mean it’s literally collapsing. It’s going to crush all of us.” I couldn’t help but look at him with a puzzled face. “That’s impossible” I replied. Then just like the other man, he too disappeared. When I thought about it, I realized a lot of them were disappearing. My world contained maybe half the population it originally did. “Are they dying?” I mumbled to myself. A voice came from behind me “No, they are being taken.” This startled me and turned to see who it was, but there was no one there.
YOU ARE READING
Dreams
HorrorA terrifying tale of a teenager whose dreams become haunted by a demon. This is my first piece of writing really, I hope you like it.