The Dream of July Third

December 2, 2009
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My body stung with an intense fear as my eyes flew open only to see a pitch black night. Not a single star would shine and an indescribable silence hung in the air. Bullets of sweat began to roll down my face. I was panting, holding my chest, trying to get the air back to my lungs. Peering through my thin cotton blankets, all that could be seen was the leaves rustling in the black darkness. “It’s just a dream.” I unconvincingly murmured to myself, “Just a dream…”

With all my heart I despise every night of July third, truly hate it. For the past five years, on the same exact unbearable night, I dream a dream like no other. This dream haunts me; makes my spine go stiff, yet my body tingles all over. And this odious, inscrutable dream all starts in the heart of Loveland Park.

The park is anomalously silent, but all can be heard. I am sitting on the red wood bench near the oak tree, just sitting, and waiting. Waiting for what? I am unsure, but I am waiting, hands crossed in my lap, not a single sound escaping my mouth. Every dream, as I am waiting, there is an uncontrollable urge to release my glassy stinging eyes from the empty swing sets and gaze right into the bright sun. I tell myself not to, I beg and hope for once I will listen to my helpless mind, but this overriding sensation takes control, and I begin to stare into the sun.

After a split second of the sun’s inviting warmth, the world goes black. Not a single ray of light is left to be seen and I am alone. There was not a single child present at the park, but a deafening shriek is heard coming from my left. As my head whips to my left, a scream is thrown at me coming from my right. I turn my body to run, to race for my life, only to be attacked by a sharp shrill wail that could come from no other than that of a dying distressed person. The touch of long gruesome nails scratch and sting at my neck as a hand snatches for my collar. I try to run, to flail, to do anything, only to choke myself even more. I feel faint and dizzy, yet my acute senses can feel every ache and pain in my body. And as the near end approaches, and I feel the last seconds of life slipping through my fingertips …I awake.





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