Phantasm

Lucid

Nightmares haunt me every night. Each morning I awaken petrified with fear. I do not dream of ghouls and monsters, but of something far more frightening. Every time I give into my body's need for sleep I see myself. Yet it is not truly me. The personage has my identical straight black locks and the same placement of facial features, but there is one thing that has scarred my nightmares since that night, the eyes. The eyes on me in the dreams are not the emerald green that I have in reality. There is no pupil to be found on my personage in my nightmares, they are simply white.

Adrenaline gradually crept its way into my veins, making my heart pump unbelievably fast. I had to make a decision, I knew that. I could either jump into the blue water below me, or I could be succumbed to the darkness. The easiest choice included giving in to the dark shadows and not fighting anymore, but I am stronger than that. Pressing my blank eyes closed, I took a step off of the cliff into the sea below me. It felt as if I were falling endlessly. I could feel the air rushing past me, but did not feel the impact of my body splashing into the water.

I jerked upright out of my bed, feeling a cold sweat bead up on my forehead. "It was only a nightmare", I breathed, still stunned from the images of what my sub conscious had come up with. I sat in that same position for several minutes thinking about the latest nightmare, and trying to get my heartbeat to slow down; finally I untangled myself from my sheets and went to get ready for another dreaded day. I kept my hair natural, as always, and put on my necklace that said my name, Lacey. I made my way downstairs grabbing an apple along with my car keys. As soon as I stepped foot out of the door my mind instantly went to the memories of the last time the police had investigated. I could not rid myself of feeling empty whenever I left the house.

I was in the middle of forbidding myself to not think of what gruesome events had happened over the summer when I noticed that a tall, lean, and toned guy was staring directly at me through my car window. He illustrated a predatory like demeanor. Our eyes met for a split second before he looked away. Out of my three years at a small town high school, I had never seen this boy.

I admit that I was stalling; I did not want to face my friends treating me so delicately you would think that I was a piece of glass, one wrong thing said and I would shatter into a million pieces. I refused to let the past affect my senior year of high school, besides there was nothing that I could have done to save them.

Walking into my first period class the first person to find me was Clarke, my best friend. He instantly embraced me while saying something in my ear. "I have a handkerchief ready anytime you need it." I forced a smile onto my face and insisted that I could make it six hours without breaking down.

Clarke has always been irresponsible yet affectionate. As much as I would deny needing anyone to stay with me at my house, if Clarke asked I would not reject his offer.

I did not have time before my first class to go to my locker, so I took that opportunity now. I looked at the number and combination permanently programming it into my brain, and made my way to the cafeteria.

The rest of the day went by in a blur. The majority of it contained dozens of people asking if I was ok, and how I was dealing with everything. Of course I ensured them that I was doing fine, and by the end of the day I had impressed myself by how well I was lying. Everyone seemed to believe my claims except for Clarke, he knew me for far too long to believe that. Since it was only the first day of school I had no home work to preoccupy my mind with, so I settled for cooking homemade lasagna. The aroma of tomato sauce and mozzarella cheese filled the air as it cooked in the oven.

After I finished eating and cleaning up dinner it was nine o'clock. I was used to sleeping the day away so I was tired from waking up so early. I went upstairs, brushed my teeth, put on my pajamas, crawled into bed, and turned off my lamp. I let my eyes droop closed and began to wonder what tonight's nightmare would hold. There was always one thing that I knew I would see every night, and they greeted me with an irking feeling that shocked my mind.

A blood curdling scream sounded through my ears. I froze, feet planted firmly in the ground. Scanning my surroundings I noticed a break in the trees. I ran towards it and jumped over obstacles that were in my way. I couldn't help but notice that my abilities were enhanced in some way. I could not only run faster, but also jump higher. I suddenly heard an eerie voice whisper into my ear, "The girl with white eyes and hair as black as ash will fail, her regret will cripple her and ruin her good-natured spirit." I stopped dead in my tracks realizing just how achingly familiar that voice had sounded.

Another scream broke me out of my train of thought, but this time it was my own. There was a sharp pain coming from my thigh, I glanced down giving a quick inspection on the damage done. Something had created a gash that was about three inches long. There was an agreeable amount of red liquid trickling out of my leg. I began to put pressure on the wound, when I noticed a figure step out from the shadows that the trees provided. It was a tall, lean and toned man who had a very intimidating almost predatory stance.

I guessed that he was the one who caused my injury, and I surely did not want to stay there for him to inflict more pain upon me. I began to run trying to ignore the complaints from my leg. All of the sudden there was a rumble coming from deep underground. It knocked me off of my feet, leaving me falling face first into the cold dirt below me. I turned around just in time to see a figure with black colored hair looking down upon me with his charcoal colored eyes, like a hunter eyeing his prey.

Pain ran through my leg. I woke up in a daze, looked at the clock and saw that it was three in the morning. Another slash of pain jolted through my leg. I lifted the covers off of myself and looked at what was causing it. There was a fairly large size cut on my thigh, spilling blood onto my sheets. Images of my nightmare slowly started to drift back into my thoughts. "How did this happen?" I cried out to my empty house. I quickly arose from my bed and grabbed an old towel from the bathroom to put pressure on the wound. After holding the cloth on it for about five minutes the bleeding still hadn't let up. I took off the towel revealing the deep slash in my leg. It was bad and I still had no idea how it happened.

More and more blood streamed out of my leg, and I panicked. I called Clarke and asked him if he could come over and take me to the hospital. He was here within ten minutes. He ran up to my room where I sat on my bed. I hadn't attempted to stand up again since the pain worsened when I walked. "What happened to you?" He shouted, staring at my wound in shock. "I have no idea. I woke up because something was hurting and then I saw this."

Clarke is the only person that I have confided my deepest darkest secrets with. He knows about my nightmares, and he has seen how parinoid they make me. So I have come to the conclusion that he would never believe that my wound came from my dream. I did not understand it, but for some strange reason I know that it is the truth.