Chapter Three

Deep in sleep my mind drifted off into a dream. There was a plain office, nothing fancy.  There were office desks in cubicles, then four large private offices around the edge. I stood watching everyone walking about, working, doing whatever it was they did at this place. 

            The office seemed to be in a tall building; high above the clouds. I couldn’t tell if they could see more or not. I was trying to see if I recognised anything, something that would make sense of this office, I mean it’s my dream, I may as well know where I am. I decided to follow a man dressed in a dull grey suit. He was carrying loads of folders all marked with different names. He walked into one of the larger offices and put them on the desk before leaving promptly. I followed him out of the room back to his cubicle. He signed back into his computer and it opened to screen with eleven pictures, all of people with a file number next to them. 

               What the hell? I stared at the screen, leaning in closer not really sure what I seeing. Why would he have these eleven people on his screen, they didn’t seem to have anything in common, I mean they weren’t even from the same country. I looked harder trying to find some sort of detail that could bring them together. Suddenly a women’s voice shouted out a name “John!” My head wasn’t listening, I didn’t even seem to notice that the guy I had been watching all this time suddenly flinched. There was something they had in common. One minor detail but something big at the same time. I moved even closer to the screen, not believing my eyes. Everyone on the screen had the same death date. I started to shiver. This dream was beginning to feel more real than fantasy. The date was today. I had something in common with everyone of the people on that screen; we shared the same death date.

“John! My office now!” shouted the women again pulling me away from the screen as dull grey suit stood up and started towards the office he’d just left. What have you done John? I wondered following him. He looked uncomfortable as he walked in, his hands fidgeting. 

The office was quite grand. There were big painting up over the large oak desk which hung on the wall. There was a bar in the corner and as John sat down on his chair opposite the desk the lady was pouring herself a scotch on the rocks. She picked up her glass swirling it round the glass. I could see she was holding the glass incredibly tight staring into the swirling liquid as she began to speak. 

“ So John. I’m going to give you five minutes to explain.” the woman took a sip of her drink and finally looked grey suit in the eyes. I can feel how uncomfortable he is like his emotions are being amplified to me. 

“ I, I, I dunno what happened….” I swear sweat drip down his neck as he stuttered out his sentence. 

“Is it really that hard John? You’re each given 12 to watch each day. How have you failed to do what everyone else does easily everyday?” The woman’s voice got more annoyed as she spoke. I could see she was clearly trying to hide her very apparent anger. She started tapping her pen on her desk while scrutinising John’s face with her eyes. “I honestly don’t know what happen…” His voice got more panicked. “She even fulfilled her death for me! Walking into the middle of the road; a code S!” He pushed his hand through is already blading hair. 

               My heart stopped. I had walked into the middle of the road to kill myself earlier, and hadn’t died…they couldn’t be talking about me surely? The woman’s eyes widened for a moment and then relaxed again, but I could see this information had intrigued her.

“You saw her die?” her voice was calm, too calm, while also sounding amused. Grey suit continued to sweat; breathing heavily as he prepared to speak again.

“Yes.” He swiped his hand across his forehead, “I watched her walk into the path of a car, coming straight for her.” The woman leaned forward, towards Grey. “Did her wrist glow?” her eyes where almost borrowing into his. “Yes.” 

               The woman stood up and started to pace. She continued to pace as if she was the other person in the room. I could hear her mumbling to herself; I moved closer to her. 

“Could she be the one? The one…” she had completely forgotten Grey suit was there. The time she’d spent ignoring him had given him the time to calm down; he now looked much more composed although I wasn’t paying much attention to him. What was she talking about? Who is this one? Suddenly I felt myself being pulled from the dream, if I could really call it that; it felt too real to me. I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to know more! Questions were swirling around my head making it hard to think. Who or what is the one? Are you actually talking about me or am I just having strangely vivid dreams now? I felt the pull a lot harder now, I could feel myself almost being dragged from the room. The last things I heard before I woke up where “John, this could be the beginning of the seditio.”          

Author's Note

Would love some feedback on this piece! I'm dyslexic so sorry if there are any spelling errors. Hope you like it :-)