Strange Imaginings | Teen Ink

Strange Imaginings

April 18, 2012
By inlovewithWRITING BRONZE, Tulsa, Oklahoma
inlovewithWRITING BRONZE, Tulsa, Oklahoma
2 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
What is written without effort is generally read without pleasure. -Dr. Samuel Johnson
You never learn a foolproof formula for right and wrong, there is no checklist of good and bad. You have to keep an eye on yourself every minute of the day and ask: 'Should I be doing this?' 'Would i want someone to do this to me?' -Ben Skywalker

If we all threw our problems in a pile and saw everyone else's, we'd grab ours back.

No man can be called friendless who has God and the companionship of good books. ~Elizabeth Barrett Browning

I divide all readers into two classes; those who read to remember and those who read to forget. ~William Lyon Phelps

The night is darkest just before the dawn. And I promise you the dawn is coming. -Harvey Dent

"The written word is a powerful thing. You have to be careful with it."
-Mo

If you pick any history at random any one at all, you will find the much the same story, seizure of power, the desire for expansion, and the inevitable inability to hold all that has been grabbed. The only variable is how long it took it to fall apart. The longest –lived empires were those with the lightest hand on the reigns.

If God intented us to wear shoes he would have made us with them. :P

The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow, If I can,
Pursuing it with weary feet,
Until it joins somem larger way
Where many paths and errands meet.
And whither then? I cannot say.
J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring

The mediocre teacher tells. The good teacher explains. The superior teacher demonstrates. The great teacher inspires.

To be yourself, forget yourself.

Books are the quietest and most constant of friends; they are the most accessible and wisest of counselors, and the most patient of teachers. ~Charles W. Eliot

You cannot try… Either you do it or you don’t…

We must stand up for what's right, regardless the cost or chance of victory.

There is Always Hope. -Aragorn

Everywhere there is good but you just have to look for it.


As most dreams are a bit odd, mine should be no different.
This passage you are about to read is merely holding the candle to the immense possibilities of what we call dreams. The tapestry holds many more pictures of things so odd and foreign we have deemed them nightmares. What happens in my brains while both unsupervised, and unconscious is completely out of my grasp. So I won't ask too much from you reader, in taking the time to skim or read this article, no applause or glee is appropriate or needed here, but simply immerse yourself; for this is not a writing to tickle or amuse. Imagine it, as if it is happening to you, then perhaps the understanding of the haunting it left me will explain the irresistible urge I had to record it.

The first notable landmark I see is an ancient, crumbling bookstore in a miserably small turnoff directly beside the dirt road. Dropped there by a car, and by those it occupied, and of whom I will choose not to name. A friend had come along with me, I hurried inside and... Shall we call this friend Dominic? Yes, Dom followed me inside. We browsed for hours I'm sure, it felt as if I had all the time in the world. The stack of books I had discovered, (and I mean a stack) possibly cost more than I physically owned. Dom, that chummy fellow, had uncovered a series well beloved; and since I am quite chummy myself relented to buy them for him. And with reluctant reluctance, I handed back my treasure stack. Dom, had most probably gone somewhere to hole up and read, which is odd because I remember him reappearing later.

Again I browsed, though what I was browsing is really the question you should be asking. Wandering about. Hoping to find, well,something to pass the time, or break the icy boredom? I believe that was it, you'll forgive me, it is all a bit fuzzy about the edges. There was nothing for it but to explore the entire store, luckily I had purchased merchandise or else the wizened looking librarians might have thrown me out upon my a***. I peered into every crevice, shelf, and nook, then Fate lead me to an open lounge and I happened upon those lounging in the run down sagging couches and wobbling tables. I could barely believe who occupied the space!
The Franks! I imagine that I overcame my shock and greeted them warmly, giving hugs all round. Then it all quieted down for these people are such grand readers, I know I walked about with Reccee Frank, who is also very chummy as well. He would have asked me about a book a had carried around since I stepped inside, though our conversation ended when the siblings all realized there agreed meeting place with there mum.
I on the other hand completely entangled with my friend Reccee, put it out of my head that Dominic ever was there. And off we walked to the little country store just down the lane and across a particularly green glade. Vaguely, I remember my hand entwined with Reccee's, the entire way there, though I deeply wish I knew if I was the culprit was that initiated this or whether it was him. I shall never know, it is lost somewhere in the abyss of my imaginings.
The feeling was obviously mutual upon for neither one attempted to disengage in the slightest. I for one was overwhelmingly content in the moment, warm and fuzzy feelings you could call them. Who couldn't be content with an amazingly chummy friend walking the countryside hand in hand?! Tell me that and I will call that individual, positively raving mad!

Arriving at the store, which was was in considerably better shape than the establishment we had recently departed, very decent and nice, my thoughts told me. Later thinking back on it, it occurred to me that I was embarking upon a field trip with these good friends, the stop was to get things in order for lunch and then on we would go to tour the rolling hills and beautiful countryside of that lovely town.
Saying a cheerful hello to Mrs. Franks, I chatted for awhile. Again aimlessly I walked the floors of the old building, though this time I wished for nothing. This time with the clan of them, we laughed, very loudly and in quick succession, for their jokes seemed quite abnormally hilarious, mostly because I understood them; though I am loath to admit it. You won't tell I trust, dear reader?

It was a jolly fine day, I thought, and knew not how it could in any way turn sour.
When it was about time to leave we loitered about the front of the mart, shuffling about. Though, what was odd is we were all whispering and standing around in a circle I can only assume we were entertaining suspicious thoughts, or playing some secretive game. Which is not hardly that valid of an assumption. As I looked, there appeared Dominic, just laughing it up like he and the Franks were old chums. I shook my head in wonderment, and the next thing I know is I'm being pushed, shoved more like, towards Reccee, who stands across from me, and its quite a miracle that I didn't topple him unto the floor! Upon impact, which sent his jaw tumbling into mine, the shock traveled through my bones and I was keenly aware of his mouth uncomfortably close to mine.
It had felt like a electric current, that had left me nub, and I did what anyone would do when disoriented, I stormed off to recover; holding my still steaming, tingling brains. I found the back door, somehow, and found myself in a meadow, complete with a rolling stream, I plodded to the grassy bank edge and sat, shoes off and there across from me, Reccee stood. Staring blankly back at me, rubbing my eyes didn't change his entity before my eyes, and then my brain decided to tell me then, that I had dragged him there.

Wordlessly, he sat down beside me, close enough to be slightly touching my shoulder. And I couldn't help but lean into the companionship and comfort he provided.
I'd very much like to tell you here, dear reader, that we jokingly talked about what just occurred and how it happened but that was not the case.

We simply sat, rather morosely, letting our minds breath, taking in the scenery around us, and the awareness of each other. Feet in the gurgling stream, the sun shone down bright beams, cheerful birds bid us good afternoon. How long this slow, contemplative state went on is beyond me. Mrs Franks, found us then, whether we wished it or not. Sauntering out the same door from which we had made our egress, her long hair swaying in the gentle breeze, in her hand she clutched a camera, which usually I would have wondered over, but my dream persona never wasted a thought over it. Approaching us, myself and Reccee felt no need to move away, it was if it was perfectly, and utterly normal for us to sit so comfortably close together. And in that moment I had no doubt that she took mental note of this. Promptly, and very deftly she snapped a picture us, though we didn't bother to smile. When she had stopped taking pictures from every conceivable angle, like a photographer recording a crime scene; she asked to explain what had happened in there. Simply stating that, the boys had said we had kissed. And would like to know the entire story from us.

My head spun, what?! I looked at Reccee in bewilderment, because now I knew exactly what had happened, and explained as best I could, Reccee ending my sentences here and there, I smiled at that. Both of us stated our complete innocence. Well, she said, I'm glad you are, because otherwise we would be having a long conversation now. After a moment of silence she laughed, and came to look at our throbbing brains. While she was occupied with Reccee's, and asking him questions, I was listening to make sure he was alright... I distinctly remember putting my hands behind me and leaning back, basking in the sun. The happy warm feeling had returned. I believe I was probably thinking how lucky I was to be in the company of such good friends.
What I saw next while staring up into the heavens, wasn't what I was expecting to see, a circular house stood upon the hill towering above our heads a modern white washed building three stories high. It was abandoned. No living thing now occupied its walls. My eyes told my brain why. The walls were as clear as glass except for the green algae now disgustingly caked the water that the house contained. Completely flooded like an over sized fish tank. The horror had sunk in, like the bodies that now were now simply stiff corpses floating; bloated and expired. I gawked open mouthed; unable to tear my eyes beyond the eerie scene above me.

Previously I had perceived the objects in the now stagnant water to be broken furniture, but it was not so, only the ghosts of the departed, while there remains, decayed; hopelessly horrific. I believe I did what any typical girl would do in this situation, of which I am not included; shrieking I clutched Reccee's arm and buried my face in his chest. Looking up, both parties gasped inwardly.

I couldn't bring myself to even briefly envision the villains who had committed this atrocity; whom had contained such a vengeful vendetta against those poor victims. Suddenly I began to piece the pieces of the puzzle together, the spring in which our feet now sat was usually low and the house was awfully full, The culprits had set up the structures surrounding the modern place, other circular formations, it struck me that they could only be hastily constructed hydroelectric pumps. Which were used to submerge this now wretched house, I couldn't bear it anymore, and I spoke up first, "Who would do something so horrible?!"

Again no one spoke, but the silence spoke volumes where words could not. the air was thick with it; we all soon reached the same conclusion, that nothing could be done for the dead, and those who had wreaked this work were no doubt still in the immediate vicinity. Promptly the spell deteriorated and Reccee gently untangled my shaking hands for his person and clasped them in his, his worried eyes flitted and took in my state. Whispering encouragingly, he lead me away. Mrs. Franks in that moment rose to follow, and her hands recalled her camera, and she viciously snapped shots the appalling sight I had discovered. Walking through the stream I couldn't stop thinking how low it was, and whoever had done this used this very water form this bed, to drown innocents, they were of course innocent, I somehow knew this.

 As you do when you are in a dream, things are terribly apparent when they aren't usually in reality. My thoughts ran away from me... And I felt sick. We had about reached our means of egress, when the qualmish feeling materialized into what can only be stated accurately here as retching. I retched until my insides felt empty, my mouth dried out, and sides aching unmercifully. I was halfway aware of the kindly Mrs. Franks taking me to the stream and washing away my bile, I hacked; hating the water which gave me all the more reason to be shatteringly unwell. The taste was awful and finally faded. I breathed in the fresh air, though my head pounded and upon standing I was quite unnervingly dizzy. Wobbling legs made me unsteady, I nearly toppled over, Clawing the air for anyone hold on to, Faithful Reccee steadied me in his calming manner. We left that place forever, never to return. I cannot recall what befell us after we were safely away. For I awoke and wrote it all down, and surprisingly remembered heaps of details that normally escape the average dreamer. As I said before, this is not a story to be enjoyed, rather to be imagined, perhaps even to be understood.


The author's comments:
This was truly and honestly a real dream.

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