The Dream

The boy slept peacefully in his bed.  Dreams of cartoons characters filled his head with joy and happiness.  I have only just awoken.  I saw the world though his eyes and the world is beautiful, new and filled with wonder.  Tonight I will leave him to sleep.  I have work to do and sleep won't come so easily in the nights to come.

Scott is a quiet child.  Eleven years of age; he is extremely shy, introverted and socially awkward, all the ingredients needed for a difficult childhood.  His days are happily spent locked away in his bedroom playing video games on his Atari game system.  A little bit of satisfaction came through the time wasted on such meaningless fun.  His imagination is vast and as with many children like him, he is above average in intelligence, even though he lacks the motivation to utilize it.  He believes he is gifted with precognition.  Often he can finish others sentences and frequently knows when the phone will ring and for whom.  I am glad he believes this as his mind is open rather than closed.  For Scott there is hope.  Like most children his age Scott has an imaginary friend.  He talks and plays with his friend mostly because he is lonely.  Unlike most children, to him his imaginary friend is very real.  Real enough to at times hear the faint whisper of his friend in his head.

A few nights later Scott woke screaming and crying from a bad dream.  His heart racing, sweat and tears, this is genuine terror.  Scott recounted the story of a dream, or more accurately, a nightmare.  In his sleep Scott dreamed of himself when he was older, perhaps in his early twenties.  He dreamt of driving a white car and talking to a man sitting beside him in the passenger seat.  The man had a featureless face, hazy and undefined, and although Scott knew they were arguing he had no recollection of hearing the words.  Adult Scott, in the dream, stopped the car near an electrical power substation. Then both men got out of the car and the argument turned physical.  Scott ran from his attacker but was pursued.  When Scott fell face first to the ground, the man was swiftly on top of him.  The man grabbed his forehead, pulling his head back and a knife swiftly slit Scott's throat.  This is where the boy awoke with the taste of imaginary blood in his mouth.

After an hour and a little bit of reassurance he is escorted back to his room, tucked into bed and bid good night.  After all, it was only a dream and dreams are not real.  Sleep this night did not return for Scott.  The memory of the nightmare haunted him for a week.  I know he was frightened, but fear is motivation.  Fear is sometimes necessary for survival.

The following week the same dream ended Scott's restful sleep.  This dream would continue to replay in his sleep several nights a week for nearly a year with every detail the same.  He told his parents again the details of the dream and only received a small amount of reassurance.  His parents believed this is just a phase.  In time, the boy grew used to the nightmare and accepted it as a part of life.  Then other things began to color his dreamscape.  A new science fiction movie called “Star Wars” dominated his thoughts and dreams for period of time.  But that was only temporary and soon he began waking every night to the image of his “older self” having his throat cut, burned into his mind.  He felt pain as his neck muscles spasm.  He tasted blood when waking, although mostly imagined, but sometimes real when he had bitten his tongue or the inside of his cheek while dreaming.  The dream continued frequently.  I saw to that.

Nearly nine months later Scott's father, who is a police officer asked Scott for more details about his dream.  Something had stuck in his head about the location of his sons dream.  He seemed particularly interested in the details concerning the power substation.  To his father's surprise, the description of the site closely matched a location that city police were currently conducting an investigation.  The January disappearance of two high school students, and subsequent discoveries of the bodies in March, near a remote power substation.  Scott's father asked him if he had ever been to the place in his dreams.  The answer was no and that he had never seen it other than in the dream.  It was unlikely he had seen the location in reality, as it is a remote undeveloped area west of the city.  Scott grew confused as his father never truly showed interest in his nightmare before.  Even more confusing to Scott was that his father talked to him about the place from his dream as if it were a real place.

About me

This is me: home-writer, book-reader, dog-lover and occasional poet. I make this website to share my and my friends texts with You, dear Reader. Please: read carefully, don't be scary, upgrade your mood and be king and leave your comment. :)