River of Dreams

River of Dreams: Chapter 16

Dedicated to her because her awesome possum book "Kiss Me, Kill Me" inspired me and the dream scene for this chapter. :) Thank you for being totally awesome eviechic!

================================================

Chapter 16

"Dreams feel real while we're in them. It's only when we wake up that we realize something was actually strange."—Inception

The house was nestled back in a dark, secluded part of town where densely populated trees grew without hesitation and conquered the whole area as their own. They blocked all but a few rays of sunlight from reaching the ground, but the scattered golden specks that did leak through seemed even more beautiful among the smoky darkness. 

As I neared the old mansion, the grouping of trees became sparser and sparser until they opened into a large clearing of grass. The residence had been vacated years ago and the existence of the house had been unknown to the general population for so long that random clumps of weeds sprouted out of the ground. In some areas, the luscious, green grass was so tall that it tickled my palms as I passed through. Under a tall oak tree whose branches nearly squelched out the sun was an overturned angel statue; weeds crawled all over it so that it seemed like it was being eaten by the earth. A tire swing roped around one of the lower branches of the tree was the only reminder that anyone had ever lived on the abandoned property.

I sighed with relief when I finally reached the front steps that led to the porch. It felt like a pair of eyes was constantly on my back the closer I got to it. The house itself was a three-story Victorian monster. The ominous, gaping windows were caked with mud and the off-white paint applied to the exterior of the structure was chipping off. There were two cone-shaped towers that peaked over the tree-tops. Coal black shingles covered the roof, and as I stepped onto the creaky wooden steps, I noticed that a few of them had slid off and were now crumbled upon the ground. 

Sweat clung my black T-shirt to my body and glued my curly stands of hair to my forehead. It was un-naturally hot; just because the light from the sun could barely penetrate through the thick canopy of leaves didn't mean the heat couldn't. For a moment, I wondered what had drawn me out of my air-conditioned house in the first place. Oh, that's right: some sort of string instrument was playing with such skill, playing such an eerily beautiful song, that I couldn't stop myself from searching for the source. The song had halted a while back, but since I was here, I knew I couldn't just turn away.

My fingers curled around the knob and turned. I was half expecting it not to budge . . . but it uncannily gave way. Nerves fluttered in my stomach -- what if someone still lived here? But they couldn't . . . The property was abandoned. The worse thing that could still be there was a horde of rats scurrying around like they owned the place, right? I stomped down the fear pooling in my stomach and forced myself to man up and enter the house.

Taking a step into the dark threshold of the house, I examined my immediate surroundings. There was nothing particularly out of the ordinary: the wood was faded in a few spots where the sun constantly beat down on it; a dirty doll was splayed out on the floor next to the door, making me think it was hastily dropped and forgotten. To my right, the direction that led to the dining room, I saw a cracked ceramic vase sitting on the table holding a bundle of dead roses. The chairs were overturned and covered with dust.

Then I heard it again: the strange song that had lured me here. A slim blue Persian cat suddenly appeared, blinking up at me with its golden eyes and rubbing against my legs. The cat meowed at my feet, slowly slinking up the stairs toward the antecedent of the music. I decided to follow it.