The Nightmare Effect

Chapter Fifteen

        If I could scream, my throat would be worn to hell. Looking through Carter's eyes, although a little blurry, I'm losing my mind trying to wake up. I tried to move something, if they was something to be moved, but none of it worked. All I can do is just keep watching. Carter is putting on some clothes, keeping a small handgun covered near the back of his pants. He lets out a big yawn as he walks to the door. Shit, don't open the fucking door, I'm thinking to myself. For all I knew, Warren was standing on the other side of that door, waiting for Carter to come out. Carter opens the door and, if I could breath, I'd give one big sigh of relief. He walks over to my door and opens it. It's a weird thing seeing yourself sleep outside your body. Must be like some sort of religious experience, or the effects of a drug, but either way, it's a weird sight. Carter walks over and takes off the watch on my wrist. I was able to feel his hands touch my skin and take off the watch.

        "Seeya' in the morning, bud," he says to me. He puts the watch on the nearby nightstand.

        God damn it, fuck the watch, man. I'm still trying to find a way to wake up. The best way I could describe the feeling is like that thing called sleep paralysis. Instead of falling asleep, your body is paralyzed, but you're still awake. That's exactly what it felt like. Like I was being held down and couldn't move an inch and this God damn nightmare wouldn't end. Carter turns and walks out the door. Now he's walking over to a closet in the hallway. He grabs a big flashlight, turns it on, and begins to search through the house. He checks Kaily's room, finds nothing. He goes through a few more rooms, thank Buddha Christ, he doesn't find anything. Now I feel like this damn dream is fucking with me like it enjoys making me wait for the feeling of dying. If you think dreams reflect the person, then I must love cock teasing myself like this, right?

        Carter makes his way downstairs. He continues to check around, but finds nothing. He flips on a few lights and grabs himself a cup of coffee. From there, he sits down at the kitchen table, talking to himself.

        "Maybe a vacation after all of this wouldn't be a bad thing..." he says to himself. "Mhm, we can go down South, or maybe West. Get a nice little break before Christmas... oh shit!" He runs over to the counter and takes a piece of paper. He sits back down and starts writing down a few things, probably some Christmas things.

        Jesus Christ, I can't take this. Carter can't die. He's way too likeable and God damn it if I just stay asleep. Come on, fucker, wake your sleepy ass up, I try to tell myself. What's the difference between you and a corpse? Not a fucking thing, now get the hell up! But it's all useless. I can't feel a thing other than what Carter's feeling. Carter keeps writing down some things, until he hears something coming from the living room. He stops writing immediately. He takes a quick glance at the clock in the kitchen. It's too early for the alarm to have gone off, or else I'd be wide awake. He slowly stands up and reaches behind him to take out the handgun. Carter slowly begins to walk to the living room, turning on the light in his hand. He's got the gun up and ready to shoot. The only thing I can focus on is the sound of his footsteps. Plat, plat. Looks like were at the beginning, all over again...

        Carter calls out for someone. "Warren? Is that you?" He continues walking slowly, plat, plat. "If I see you, you son of a bitch, I won't hesitate!" Something suddenly surprises Carter and an object hits him in the arm. A figure tackles him to the ground, the gun gets knocked away a few inches from his hand. The figure is wearing the same mask as the killer. Carter is struggling, his breathing getting cut quicker.

        "How sad that you wouldn't hesitate. I took you in, I raised you, and I gave you a fucking chance! Where did I fail you?!" Warren yells through his mask.