The Dream | Teen Ink

The Dream

September 12, 2010
By Chitra.I PLATINUM, Dubai, Other
Chitra.I PLATINUM, Dubai, Other
44 articles 2 photos 131 comments

Favorite Quote:
Everything makes sense if you think too much about it.

The hazing, wintry night swirls around me, the mist making it harder for me to breathe. Maybe the mist has nothing whatsoever to do with that. Maybe it's the fear churning in the pit of my stomach, irrational, instinctive.
Yeah, that may have a little something to do with it.
I can't even look up and around; my sense of preservation has my gaze returning to my feet every time I make an attempt to try and figure out what is making me so jittery that jittery isn't even the word. The chilling, still air is swirling in my hair and tickling my neck; I jerk my hair from my neck irritably, and find something foreign on my skin.
I pull my hand back as if it's been burned; instead, what I'd felt reminded me of cold bubblegum that had gone hard. I want to check again, my curiosity overwhelming me, my sense of preservation beating it back. My heart beating erratically, I force myself to put my hand exactly where I'd thought I'd felt the foreign substance.
It was gone.
I exhale, but relief doesn't flood into my system. Instead, the vanishing act of the strange cold thing has tapped into the paranoia sleeping somewhere at the back of my head, so that the silence is like a buzz, warning me. The foreboding that creeps up my spine is so complex, yet devastatingly simple: telling me that there's nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. Something I've never felt before.
And all this while I 've been rooted to the spot.
A slimy chill runs up my hand, making me shiver. I wonder if I'm just imagining this. I clamp my other hand onto the cold one, and am not surprised to find nothing between my palms.
But then the smily chill runs along my neck again...
I go rigid, completely unable to move, while my mind, crazily, flickers to a vision of a rabbit lying still pretending to be dead as a bear sniffs around for prey. Completely unrelated, yet so similar.
But this can't work. The slimy hand has a voice like whispering electricity to go with it: Don't move. I can make this not hurt so much if you don't move.
A flash of excruciating pain:

I sit up wildly in bed, sweat running down my face and making my covers damp. I get up and get out.
Further this time, I say to myself. My mind is working feverishly, though I just woke up. The sweat is running down the back of my neck, as I try to make sense of how many steps ahead I'd gotten this time in this recurring nightmare.
I really should stop reading those books, I think, trying to calm myself, as I spare a glance to my heap of fantasy novels. I stumble to the window and throw it open. Inhaling, I notice something rather odd. The night.
The night is the same. Cold, wintry, still as death.
What do you expect? It's December, I tell myself. But something about the stillness, the silence has me looking at my feet again. That's when I realise.
My mouth falls open in pure horror as I see two glistening drk drops on the floor. As I stare, a third bead runs down my back and joins the two. And then a shadow falls over it all.
I look up, and see.
Stupidly enough, all I can think of to say is: Please.
My whispered plea does nothing to him. Not a doubt. No hesitation. Not even an irritated twitch. Just the hungry look that can't be moved and the focus that can't be replaced.
I close my eyes.

The author's comments:
It's a piece of me.

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This article has 3 comments.

on Sep. 23 2010 at 11:07 am
Chitra.I PLATINUM, Dubai, Other
44 articles 2 photos 131 comments

Favorite Quote:
Everything makes sense if you think too much about it.

Thanks....and as for the end, the nightmare was real...her dreams were real.

on Sep. 22 2010 at 5:52 pm
blackmist BRONZE, Houston, Texas
1 article 0 photos 40 comments
I was really gripped in the story. The end was sort of... confusing. the beginning is /amazing though!

Scatty2693 said...
on Sep. 18 2010 at 11:14 am

You nearly had me there! the suspense was building up .....uncertainty of whether I can really relate this to you, what you actually felt when you wrote this and what I was feeling at that moment gripped me.

Wasn't there a similar poem you wrote? Same theme but refreshingly different (there I've given my anonymity away :P never expected to keep it!)

"it is a piece of me"...... that surprised me at first but when I thought about it it clicked prettty quick (yes i'm a blonde)

Your style is consistent, which is great compared to my varying one..... developing a fixed style is important for maintaining an identity. But that is probably because my my horrifying reading habits, I get influenced easily by the styles I like and always prefer prose to poetry.

This is my first non- poem article of yours I've read ( apart from your blog) and I must say you excell in both ( now because of all this compliments don't you get a swelled head, your passionate and humble about your writing and that's how I like it!)

what I've always love is your emotional build up. You capture an sentiment perfectly. Since I know about your 'floating incident writing' I could get into the mood quickly and also since I know you so well. But to others I think you need to develop a bit of background, a story, a myth, what ever..... there is beauty in details of all kinds. but for this article I think I know exactly what you were feeling!(feaked me out too)

I would like to read more of your prose if it's possible since I'm exposed already to so much of your poetry ( oh great first, I sounded like a critique, then probably like a guy trying to get you into a book deal, now I sound like your grandma!)

Well I think that sufficiently covered it for starters......

I can't stop grinning.... my best friend (ok, one of) has done such a great job and I'm proud of her!!!

Dont ask me for any more comments....pls i'll give it to you face to face....I really got killed doing this