Buddy Wakes Up

Buddy wakes up from a chilling dream in which four images are imprinted into his mind which he then attempts to understand, with dire consequences.

“Buddy, wake up.” the slow and distorted voice said in a drearily set and yet caring tone. He stared, unseeing. In the darkness of his mind, he imagined that a demon was tricking him into sins and hedonistic employ. However while he lied - staring at the emptiness of his own psyche - the voice reappeared “Wake up Buddy.” Buddy longed for the quiet he had experienced before the voice appeared, in this bitter-sweet moment of contemplation he saw his true self and the laziness behind this constant facade of activity he was enduring. He didn’t have to pretend in this moment, didn’t have to speak, didn’t have to listen, but of course he did listen, and once again he heard “Wake Up” a slightly more harsh sound to the call this time as if someone were shouting from a distance or harshly whispering from inside his own skull.

His head shook, and suddenly his sights became filled with images and colours; a small broken watch, a black squawking bird, a crashed motorbike and a small crying child. He kept seeing the four images repeated one by one with no sign of stopping, however the images flashed against him harder and harder, a monumental force imprinting the objects into his thoughts, they became faster and faster with every switch of the projector inside his head, there was no sound - however the shear force of the images burning their way into his subconscious was deafening, dumbing, numbing. They stopped. And Buddy’s eyes opened.

He awoke, the sound of his alarm clock calling him to pet it as if it were a dog which craves attention so much it will only stop crying when you give it the thought and love it requires. He leant over and the hounding creature was silenced, cut in its shrieking and severed from the existing world. He sat up and for a moment listened to the glowing sound of an empty house, nobody around, no distractions and no pain. Buddy stood wondering what to do with his day, today he could go anywhere, today he was free, today was his day.

He got out of bed heading for the kitchen, when at the first touch of his bedroom door’s handle Buddy once again saw the four images from his dream, the watch, the bird, the bike and the child. He had no idea what the images meant but he was oddly intrigued by their vivid placement in his memory. He decided he would spend this day of all days dedicated to understanding these images, he would find their meaning by midnight, that was his solemn vow. Little did Buddy know that setting that vow he had changed his life forever, and that of others. This vow which could have been forgotten or left until tomorrow, at this time and this day, would result in the worst fate imaginable. But Buddy didn’t know that, he thought he was simply exploring the expansion of his own knowledge, he meant no harm, however his actions had just set in place a reality that while unintentional, is entirely... his doing.

A courageous and bold step, it stood outside calling to him. Leading to his future, his answers, those images. Watch, Bird, Bike, Child - He repeatedly chanted the images under his breathe as he charged to the door in his dull pace. Buddy realised that these images meant something, he knew they were going to be important, he knew they would play an important role today. He exited his home.

As Buddy protruded from the small city terrace house with exceptionally red bricks and with an even more exceptionally red door. The window sills were a vibrant scarlet, as were the roses that were perched upon them. The roses had began to wilt however, as if someone had recently forgotten to water them. Buddy never noticed them, nor did he notice the rest of the house, it was simply his shelter, a place to hide when running and a place to sleep when tired. He stepped down to the drab and dull road coated in dying and degrading leaves as if Autumn had come knocking at his door to make his devilish acquaintance.

Buddy continued to search, spending hours searching for clues to the images. He would chase the sound of a motorbike or child through the streets of his town, he never found anything. He continued however, while not receiving any sign that the struggle of Buddy’s conscious mind would end soon. He passed his house over and over again. But time and time again he didn’t notice the flowers, and he didn’t notice the clues. The wrecked watch, the bellowing blackbird, the bruised bike and the crying child. They still rang in his head as they did when he first woke up that very morning. He had to find their meaning, he vowed once again. Once again marking the impending doom onto the most unlikely people.

After another hour of searching Buddy finally found it, the clue he was looking for. The Broken Watch had been found. A shine caught Buddy’s eye as he walked past his house for yet another time, the shine coming from the back of a face-down watch on the other side of the road. He was elated, he stood back in a stupor preparing to put the pieces of this mystery together finally. However. While Buddy crossed the road the faint squawking of a blackbird hit him from behind, he turned, bemused, elated once again. He was solving it. He would solve it. Buddy focussed intensely on the blackbird’s movement and sound as it landed on a nearby fence. So focussed in fact, he missed the sound of the motorbike, but by then it was too late. The bike came crashing past, full throttled and deadly, the red of the bike matching the red of the blood.

Buddy stood unaware, unseeing, unknowing, what had just happened? There was blood all over his face, but he wasn’t bleeding. The bike had crashed, but it hadn’t hit him. A man, regular and plain, had chased Buddy onto the road, he heard the bike, Buddy was in danger, the man simply acting as a saviour tried to warn him, run out and help Buddy. The bike had swerved. The bike crashed, but it didn’t hit Buddy. The red bike lying now in the front of a parked car at the side of the road, had hit the saviour, the regular man.

Buddy turned again, the images pounded in his head once again, The Broken Watch, The Black Squawkin Bird, The Crashed Bike… Buddy knew what the last image was, yet it didn’t flash, it slowly faded in as he turned to see the son of the saviour. A small boy standing at the side of the road, covered in his father’s blood, morbidly wiping it from his eyes. Buddy saw the boy’s eyes search for meaning of what had happened, an explanation. The boy looked up, to see Buddy. Buddy who had only just realised the meaning of what had happened, as the boy had. Buddy stood and at the same time both the boy and Buddy understood the gravity of the event. The boy began to cry, and the image begin to flash. Buddy had completed his vow. But he had also killed a man.

Buddy fell to the ground, fainting due to the sheer horror of what was happening in front of him, his eyes closed, and everything was black. And, in a familiarly drearily set tone he heard… “Buddy, wake up.”  and Buddy’s eyes opened.

Author's Note

It is a first draft so I appreciate any help, its a short story currently being adapted into a short film so any ideas for changes to make would be appreciated.