Screaming. It always starts with the screaming. I hear them all around me. Children are crying. People are crying. I try to get up but my body doesn’t respond. I’m bound somehow but nothing holds me. Then the questions follow. Where the hell am I? Why the fuck can’t I move? A flash of scorching heat surrounds me but my body is numb to act. My mouth is firmly shut so I lie quietly, helplessly trying to make out the people. Focus. Everything seems hazy but I always see the fire. It taunts me. It dances and sings while I suffer. As it makes its way closer I hear it hiss in my ear, “You’re going to die.” Then, there’s the blinding light and a sudden rush of pain; unbearable, nauseating pain that hits the bone and follows through to what’s left of my now, broken soul. The fire shrieks for joy and it continues to dance. Soon. It’ll all end soon, I tell myself. I shut my eyes and the screams grow quiet. Then the beaming light engulfs me once again and the pain follows obediently. For what feels like several hours, the cycle continues. I’m helpless and alone. My body starts to shake slowly and then it loses control. The only condolence I receive is the promise that it’ll all be over soon. And just like clockwork, a familiar voice screeches my name and I shoot up from my bed screaming, gasping for air as I break away from the blankets that bind me.
I’m alone in the dark. Fifth night in a row, I think to myself as I wipe the sweat off my face. I look to my right at the clock. Fuck, it’s five in the morning. My body is drenched and I still feel a little shaky. For the last five nights, I’ve had the same dream - the screeching voice, the fire… the pain. I grab my Moleskin and start jotting down notes. Thanks Baby. Since I told her about these, “nightly-accounts”, Jenny’s been worried about my nightmares and bought me the Moleskin to record them in hopes to find an answer. Write everything you can remember, she insisted. It isn’t hard though. Aside from the faces of the screaming people, everything else is vivid. It’s like a memory, hidden far back in my brain, trying to escape its way to the surface. What I’m trying to explain is that I wouldn’t call it a regular nightmare. It almost feels like an experience. It’s hard to explain. Once I finish writing, I go through my notes and compare from previous nights. Everything is exactly the same. I get up and make my way to the washroom to wash up. As I stand in front of the sink, I stare dumbly at the mirror and notice the colour of my skin returning. Pull yourself together dammit. Instead of going back to bed I opt to hit the gym so I get dressed quickly and make my way out. I shake off whatever feelings or questions I had moments earlier and tune out from the world as I plug my earphones in. Rise Against – Savior.
I start sprinting through the city ignoring the busy streets. It’s Friday so the streets are livid. People are honking and demanding others to drive faster. I jump over a fence, choosing to take the longer route - it’s much quieter. I dodge every obstacle like its routine, making my way past construction zone after construction zone. It always surprises me how empty they are. Since the companies left a couple months back, it’s like most of the city’s construction halted simultaneously. Better for me. It’s been a while but I smirk as I whiz through the tractors and fork lifts effortlessly. Was it always this easy? I suddenly feel a kick and I pick up speed. And then as swiftly as it came, my smirk disappears as my mouth forms an “O” as I lose control of my legs. I’m in the air hurtling into a cement truck at God knows what speed. “Oh” shit. I fly into the truck like a rocket and find myself on the other side. Strange. I look back and see the hole through the truck. The metal cylinder that rotates holding the cement begins to leak. I get up and brush the debris off my clothes. I carefully examine myself. Not a scratch. I look around and find a window and inspect myself again using the reflection. Then I see the shard of metal carefully planted in my back. I panic quietly. I run in circles trying to reach for the shard. It’s too small and my arms are too short. I scan the area looking for something to help. I find a long metal pole and run back to the window. I painstakingly lodge the pole in between the shard and my back and like a surgeon, remove the piece. Blood starts gushing out and I blackout.
