A Dream

November 29, 2010
By Anonymous

The creak in the attic wasn’t loud enough for my parents to hear, but I heard it like it was right next to me. Goosebumps spread across my skin as I pulled the covers higher and higher onto my body. The creaks were getting more and more frequent, until it sounded like heavy footsteps directly above me. The trap door in the hallway slowly slid open. I remembered there was a ladder outside our house from the painter yesterday. At that moment, one single eye peeked through the crack in my door.

My Dad walked through the door, saying, “Did you hear anything?”

“No, I don’t think so,” I replied, even though I was sure I did. Maybe I was trying to forget about it. I don’t know why I didn’t tell my Dad, and when he left I immediately regretted it. I waited, my eyes gazing on the plain white ceiling above me. I didn’t hear anything now, so I went downstairs to get a glass of water. My bare feet crept down the stairs silently, and I took a pause before I got into the kitchen. I could see a shadow lurking low to the ground in the dim light. I walked into find my dog walking to his bed, and I let out a loud sigh of relief. But just then, I saw a shadow pass through the door. I was interested, even though I knew I shouldn’t have been. I walked over to the door and the door was unlocked, even though I had left it the opposite. I swung the door open and the cold breeze swept across my face. I slipped on my sneakers and walked onto my short driveway. The shadow came across my vision again, and this time I got frustrated. I started to jog after it down the street.

It was black as pitch at this dead hour of the night. One light flickered in the distance, and I decided to go there. I started to run as I heard more and more mysterious noises of the night. I saw a figure now, under the light, a figure of a person. With tattered clothes and a gruff beard, he was what everyone avoided throughout their day. But I approached him, even though my mind regretted it. He didn’t see me coming, but once he did, he gave me an odd look. A look of confusion and of fear. I yelled out to him, in complete confidence. “Excuse me, sir, do you need some help?” He didn’t respond at first. He exhaled heavily, his breath coming out in white puffs. He looked nervous, and suddenly, right when he was about to say something he took out a small metal device. It was beeping, and a small light flashed from the side. I had no idea what it was, until a moment later.

He pushed a button, and a bright light flashed behind us. It sounded like a million fireworks just went off inside my ears. The force pushed us both to the ground, and I cried out in pain. I saw something sever my thigh as I got up. I slowly limped to the explosion, and a realization hit me then. That was my house. My house was the one in pieces, the one with flames caressing it in its fiery grip. I fell to my knees. My parents are in there. A tear rolled down my face, but that tear turned into pure rage. The man had run away, though I saw him in my mind clear as day. But suddenly I jumped, as the sunrise shone through my curtains.

Similar Articles


This article has 0 comments.

Parkland Book