The Dream of Death | Teen Ink

The Dream of Death

May 8, 2009
By Danni_Lynn BRONZE, Akron, Ohio
Danni_Lynn BRONZE, Akron, Ohio
4 articles 0 photos 2 comments

As I trudge down a narrow, dank hall many thoughts assault my mind. Why do the bad things constantly happen to me? Why can’t I just get the guts to end it all? Most importantly, why do I have this awkward feeling of déjà vu?
I sigh heavily. Then, as I inhale, a certain scent, other than my lavender lotion, ambushes my nose. I cannot tell just yet whether it is good or bad. I know this aroma. It’s alluring and mysterious, but I have found that alluring things are better left alone.

I run my hand against the stones on my right, staring straight ahead. Their grainy texture is expected, possibly familiar. This hall goes on forever, doesn’t it? Wait, I see a light up ahead. It looks like a flame, maybe it lights a torch.

I pick up the pace, almost racing towards the light that may be my hope. I feel my soft, dark curls wavering with the gust of my speed. My heart races with my feet. The torch is getting further and further away. Am I running backwards? I look behind me. It seems as though the fabric of time is falling apart. I can see the wall unraveling into a void behind me. “No.”

I lurch forward, trying to run. My stomach knots in panic. My feet won’t move. “No!” I groan, trying to move with all my might. My feet stay where they are. I turn my head, looking over my shoulder with wide eyes.

The blankness of the void is approaching faster. “NO! I don’t belong here!” I sob, as the tears stream down my cheeks, leaving their sticky trail. “I can’t die here! No! No!” I scream the words at the top of my lungs. I hear them echo off the walls.

That is it. There are no footsteps, no voices. My right foot breaks free from the phobic trance. My left follows. I start to sprint once more, hoping to escape my impending doom. As I see the torch actually coming closer there is a demonic laughter the shatters my spine. The aroma becomes stronger.

The laughter keeps getting louder and louder, and the scent mightier with it. I look all around, still running, but see nothing. And then I trip. The vast emptiness begins to consume me. The laughter is all I hear. All I can smell is that wonderful, deceiving fragrance “Wait!” I yell.

The stone floor beneath my feet vanishes before I have a chance to stand. I cling desperately to the edge of the floor, trying to save myself from the abyss. The startling figure that approaches me almost makes me let go.

“Tell me,” says a deep, demonic, masculine voice sounding nearly amused, “Why should I spare you.” I blink. He must know.

I fumble to find words to correctly formulate my reason. “I…You should not spare me. But,” I think quickly, seeing a grin through the shadows from his hood.

“But?” I can tell he’s growing impatient. What to say? How do I get back the life I complain about so much?

I inhale deeply, tears slipping from my dark eyes down my pale cheeks. “At least give me a second chance? E-Everyone deserves second ch-chances…right?”

A maniacal, almost monotonous laugh, much more frightening than the first, attacks my eardrums. “Second chance?” He shakes his head under that velvet cloak. “Give you a second chance? Why? So you can decide that you want to be falling down that abyss a week from now?” His voice becomes much deeper now, “Why not just spill all that beautiful blood right now?”

The figure brings his foot down harshly on my hand. I squeeze my eyes shut tightly. I can hear the sickening crack. Agony shoots through my hand, but then it suddenly becomes numb. When I finally open my tear-filled eyes, I can see the deep red of the blood that trickles down my fingers.

“W-who are y-y-you?” I stammer.

The man kneels on one knee, keeping his other foot on my hand. He places his bony fingers on the top of the hood. “You really want to know.” It isn’t a question, just a mere observation. “I am your worst nightmare.”

He slowly pulls the hood down. I gasp sharply. I can’t tear my eyes away. I want to scream, this is so unbelievable. It’s killing me, tearing my heart apart. Sandy blonde locks fall into a gorgeous face. His hazel eyes are just as beautiful. I can feel the pain of my heart breaking. The tears are unending. I cannot believe this is the man I know; the man I love. “J-J-“

Before I can finish he places his cold hand over my trembling lips. “Yeah,” He says with a sadistic grin. “Isn’t it great?”

My warm, sticky tears drip onto his icy hand. “Now, now,” He moves his hand. I watch him carefully. He moves his foot. He stands slowly. “You won’t need to cry much longer.”

He bends over and peels my fingers from the edge. I cry out as I begin to fall. “Don’t worry!” He calls. For a moment I think he’ll rescue me. His final words to me turn out to be, “I’ll see you in hell.”

I fall for some time. The void surrounds me as I watch the little chunk of reality slip away. I become dizzy, and my mind succumbs to the darkness of death.

I jerk awake. My body is covered in a sweat as cold as those hands. I look beside me, and he lies there. He is sound asleep.

He reminds me of an angel. I bend my knees, pulling them to me. I bury my face there. I let the tears flow as I weep. I really do not realize how loud my crying is.

“Honey,” I raise my head. My vision is blurry, but I know I am listening to the only one who has ever been in my bed. “Are you okay?” I feel his arms around my trembling body.

“It was just a nightmare.” I whisper softly.

He kisses my cheek. “Just know that I’m here for you. I will protect you. I love you.”

The author's comments:
Okay, I wrote this after a friend that told me he liked me got a girlfriend. I'll admit I was upset then, but now I'm not that hung up on it. We don't want the same things, and I want him to be happy with his girlfriend.

Similar Articles

JOIN THE DISCUSSION

This article has 0 comments.