My heart was pounding wildly and I could feel my pulse jutting through the veins in my wrists. He was closer.
We ran, our feet pounding the pavement like jackhammers. Our arms swung through the air like iron pendulums slicing the space between our reality and the invisible unknown. I could hear the echoes of my frenzied footsteps reverberating under the surface of the Earth.
Even in the dark I could see the fear flashing through the whites of Neely’s eyes and I knew she felt as helpless as I did. Though the summer air pressed against us, we inched forward, trying to find our way through the night.
We had traveled beyond the confines of my neighborhood. I recognized our surroundings but had no idea how to get home. Each house was identical to the next, boarded up and padlocked. Where there should have been glass windowpanes there was solid wood. Where there should have been porch lights, there was nothing but inky darkness. We were stuck out here alone and he was getting closer even as we tried our hardest to escape.
Stay alert, keep moving, I told myself, but with each forward movement there was a backwards arrival. It was like we were running up a downward escalator.
I searched for any sign of life, any form of shelter, or perhaps a vortex through which Neely and I could escape. No pockets opened up for us, no guiding lights appeared to lead us to safety. It was just me and Neely panting our way through the rows and endless rows of closed-up houses. But it wasn’t just us. He was getting closer each second. I couldn’t see him but I could feel the weight of his presence catching up with us, a hot, sickly breath on the backs of our necks.
“Bridget, he’s right behind us!” I heard Neely scream but when I turned to face her, her mouth was closed and her eyes were squeezed shut. Everything fell still. And then I saw it. I saw his shadow emerging, moving behind her, growing larger as it surfaced from behind the faceless trees.
“Neely! Run!” I tried to scream, but nothing came out. My mouth filled with a thick metallic-tasting saliva. “Neely! Neely!” I yelled frantically inside my head while my body stood frozen. The shadow grew even larger, and I saw human fingers reaching out from its darkness, reaching for Neely’s shoulder as her eyes popped open….
“Neely!” I screamed, startled by the sound of my own voice. I was sitting up in bed, my hair drenched in sweat and sticking to the back of my neck. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I began to notice my dresser in the corner and my altar next to the bed. All was as it should be. Except that I was tingling with fear. I quickly reached over and turned on the reading lamp. Taking a deep breath, I fell back onto my pillow in a moment of deep relief. There was no killer about to get us. Like me, Neely was at home, probably asleep or watching late night TV. I glanced at the clock: 1:11. Perhaps a snack would help me get back to sleep.
As I stepped onto the floor, my feet felt prickly against the carpet. I slipped on my silk boxers and crept downstairs slowly, trying not to make any noise that would awaken my parents. I would be too embarrassed to tell them that I’d had another dream episode. It had been a while since the last one, but that time I’d screamed so loudly that everyone in the house woke up.
I found my way to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator and let the flood of orange light illuminate the room. While leaving the door of the fridge wide open, something my dad would’ve chastised me for if he’d been awake, I searched the cupboard for the last two fig bars I’d saved for myself. I found them behind the bag of pretzles and stashed them greedily into the pocket of my boxers. Returning to the fridge, I found my last can of RC Cola and then tip-toed back upstairs with my middle-of-the-night summer feast. I deserved a tasty snack for having just survived eminent death.
In my room, I sat cross-legged in front of my altar, using it as a table-top for my soda and fig bars. My bowl of crystals twinkled under the lamp-light and my collection of half-burned candles looked like strange space oddities in their contorted waxiness.
I didn’t want to think about the nightmare. To do so might bring the hideous killer back to life.
I finished my snack, ditched the boxers again, and returned to bed. I cranked open the windowpanes to let in a breeze if there was one. I was sleepy but not quite ready to return to total darkness so I decided to journal a while until I felt normal again. I stuffed my ears with earphones and I reached over to turn on the stereo. When I pushed play, I was nearly blasted out of my mind by the high volume at which I had previously been listening. I adjusted the volume and let my head fill with the strange sounds of my favorite radio station’s after-midnight musical selections.
I opened my journal and began to write.
Wednesday, June 11th, 2008, 1: 27 am.
Dear Journal,
I had a dream episode tonight.
I woke up screaming Neely’s name. We were being chased by a killer through our neighborhood and into some horrible boarded-up neighborhood. I never saw his face, but he almost had us. He was going to kill us. He was reaching for Neely.
Change of subject…I love this music. It reminds me of last summer, when I would stay up all night listening to the radio and talking to A.J. on the phone. Sometimes he would even turn on his radio and listen to the same music at the same time. But that was then and he’s a jerk.
OK, this journal entry isn’t going anywhere. I have nothing clever to write right now. I guess maybe I’ll try to go back to sleep.
I hope that I do not have any more bad dreams.
Good night for now.