The Boy In My Beautiful Nightmare

The Boy In My Beautiful Nightmare

A Story by P. Bienert

There is a mysterious boy in my dreams who I have no knowledge of; yet as the nights progress, I find that he is more of a reality than an apparition. Is it a dream or a reality?

Every single day when I wake up, I feel troubled - like something's missing. I know what the answer is, but I find myself unconvinced and in denial. I constantly dream of him every night. It's like he's always there, just standing blanketed in mist against a backdrop of beautiful evening stars and beckoning for me to come towards him.

I swear there was at least one time when I was so sure I had seen his face but I couldn't remember it the next morning. To say I was fuming was an understatement, as I threw my pillows and sheets on the floor and refused to come out of my bedroom for the rest of the day. Overreacting? Probably. Strange? If you have ever been in love with a guy you only met in dreamland, which I assume is a no, then yes, strange.

The most heartbreaking part of it is the fact that I have been searching for love my entire life. My past and present family issues are a major contributor, but that's only a minimal piece of the pie. I've never been in love before.

This is why I'm not entirely convinced that I am, because it all feels brand new to me. I have an average social life, a few friends here and there whom I can trust with secrets and gossip; friends who have love lives of their own.

High school was a massive adjustment for me, and so was seeing my friends start having boyfriends. It was awkward enough watching these couples cuddle and grind all around me, but to see my actual friends shoving their hands down these boys' pants sickened me at first. It grew on me after a while though, plus the guys turned out to be smart and cool to hang out with - well, some of them.

A few months into high school and I started to really think about the future. And the family bit I mentioned earlier? Don't even get me started on that. It's a totally different story; this one is solely to inspire and tell a good story.

So basically my home life sucked and I didn't know which direction to take. Did I want to be a photographer? A doctor? A writer? An architect? Everyone else seemed to know exactly what they wanted, which I envied them for but didn't mention a word.

I mostly keep things to myself, so there are certain times where they're not sure how to assess my mood. Even in truth or dare games, I wouldn't dare admit that I was deathly jealous of their relationships even if they snapped all the bones in my fingers.

I'm not sure when the actual dreams began, but it did start quite hazy at first and became clearer as time went by, like a camera lens coming into focus. The dreams would last for what only felt like mere seconds but had actually spanned hours of deep sleep.

The setting was consistent since day one: a lovely bright evening with thousands of stars scattered across the sky, a luminous quarter moon partially hidden by a tuft of grey-white clouds, and a huge open space filled with nothing but green grass and a few distant trees. And in the middle of the breathtaking picture, he stood silhouetted by the moonlight, not too near but not too far away either.

In the course of two weeks I found that I had only dreamed of him for about two to three times a week at first, and then it progressed to nearly every night of the week. It dawned on me that someone or something was trying to convey a message through this dream.

I wasn't a very superstitious person, but it was certainly something to ponder. As soon as I wake up, I would grab my journal and start writing down minor details that I found in the dream, regardless of how ridiculous it seemed. I felt like I was growing more and more attached to this mystery person.

I wrote on my journal how goodlooking this guy was, even though I couldn't see most of his face. He had a tall, lean body, fair complexion, and short, light brown messy hair that swayed a little with the breeze.

He wore a blue denim jacket over a thin white top, which prominently featured the curves of his well-built chest and large veins on his neck. He had large hands too, and they were just hanging there on his sides, just swaying very slightly as though
dancing with the wind's rhythm. The white sneakers under the brown khaki jeans were a bit muddy as though he had played in the field all day after it had rained.

It was a story coming to life... yet what was the purpose of this story? Who was this boy and what did I have in connection with him? Was I ever going to see his face? These questions played over and over in my head every day from morning before leaving for school until midnight before falling asleep.

I found myself having trouble concentrating on other things, so I gave the matter my utmost attention. All I knew was that I had to find the answer behind this mystery, and the key was to remain asleep as long as I could without getting rushed to the hospital for oversleeping.

I'm probably exaggerating, but hey, this isn't something you come across everyday, right?
I agreed tomyself that I did sound a little bit insane, but it was the kind of secret that I  would kill myself for to unravel.

And so my quest began. The whole thing took me three consecutive nights. The first night, I went into the dream realizing that I was actually aware I was dreaming. I read about it somewhere in a book about dreams, but I didn't remember what to do and how to deal with it. I was very careful not to break the dream, for I felt like I was in control of it now after having dreamed of the same thing for weeks.

It started out pitch black at first, then the stars appeared, followed by the moon and the thick fog... and him. After all this time of having to meet to him every night staring into the same image and not getting any response of any kind, I still felt the huge waves of adoration spread through me by the sight of him each time.

It was a peculiar and extremely pleasing feeling - like the rest of the world didn't exist and it was just him and me.

I fought so hard to control the progress of the first night's dream, trying to get as close as possible. An inch. Two inches. It seemed to take ages to move. I took another step, and that's when the dream broke and I had woken up.

I was so furious that I grabbed my journal and tore some of the pages out, even some of the drawings of him I had previously sketched. The second night was no different. I was getting closer, better than the first one, but out of desperation I had called out to try if that would work, but it only broke the dream once again.

I couldn't go back to sleep after that, as I was already oversleeping too much that sedatives wouldn't even knock me out.

By the third day I realized I couldn't remember the last time I ate. In a span of four weeks I had lost a few pounds and the bones on my neck were protruding. I couldn't believe it. What have I done to myself? was the question I had in mind the whole time.

I cried out of frustration, but I wasn't going to give up. It was either solve it and walk away from it, or let it ruin my life forever not knowing. On the third night, I fell asleep just before midnight after having to read an entire book all day just to tire out my eyes.

The dream instantly materialized out of thin air, as though it was just there, waiting. He was waiting. I swear I could see a mouth from a distance - thin, pink lips smiling directly at me. Finally! I was practically shivering with anticipation, but I fought to gain control of myself.

I was certain that I wasn't going to break the dream surface this time. If I don't find the answer, this better be the last, I thought as I started taking small but easy steps towards this heavenly figure.

I noticed after a while that I was the closest I had ever been, and his features were coming in clearer than ever before, such as the way a few strands of his hair drooped over his forehead and the creases on his shirt and jacket.

At that very moment, I knew that he was real. I had always regarded him as a sort of god, like a dream representation of some holy entity glowing with perfection. But I was wrong, he wasn't just perfect... he was real.

It's difficult to put into words exactly how I felt that very moment as I inched towards him, all senses alert yet at the same time transfixed at this boy who I was irreversibly, irrevocably in love with.

I stepped into the halo of pale moonlight around him, and I was undeniably positive that I was going to meet the man of my dreams. I mustered all the strength I had to look up into his face and see the beauty hidden under the mist.

It took ages, like a film slow-mo'd to 5000 frames per second. First came the soft, pink lips, then the perfectly angular nose, and the eyes... Oh god, the eyes.. they took my breath away.

I actually felt like my heart stopped for two seconds right there, or more. They were bright green and round, with the longest eyelashes on a man I'd ever seen. As the rest of his features formed the puzzle, I wondered who this person was - not that I really cared, but I did feel a little disappointed.

I was half-hoping that I would fail this attempt so I could keep seeing him again and keep the mystery alive, but I'd just proved to myself that it was all definitely a dream.

In less than a second our eyes had locked and I swore I could feel static electricity between us. Everything was perfect - except maybe fireworks in the backdrop - but hey, who cares? I could have stood in that spot my entire life and never let go.

But the more that I thought about not wanting to let go, it seemed that the dream was more on the verge of breaking. In the next second, the stars and moon popped out of sight, and he vanished into thin air.

I was left there, in the middle of the damp field, and rain was starting to pour. I can laugh about it now and think of how many depressing love songs I could have played over and over in that dream and they wouldn't be enough. I was literally heart-broken, helpless, destroyed. What was there to live for outside the walls of this sweet, beautiful nightmare?

I remember waking up late in the afternoon drenched in sweat and my face puffy with tears. I had slept for fourteen hours straight. I had missed school, and I didn't plan to go back anyway.

It did take me a few days to gather myself and scold myself at my own stupidness. I'd let myself be dragged down into a pit by a dream. A dream! I went back to school, still not in the mood to strike up any conversations, but determined to move on.

That same day I went back to school, I had a strange heavy feeling in my stomach that felt like something was going to happen. Whether good or bad, something was bound to happen.

I spent the afternoon in the courtyard sitting against a tree, scribbling nonsense stuff on my journal. This was a part of the campus that was normally peaceful and empty, so I picked this one to hang out in. That's when I heard soft
footsteps on the grass behind me.

Reluctant, at first, then growing more certain by the second. The feeling in my stomach grew even heavier like it was about to burst out of my skin. It was like something had pulled me to my feet and made me turn around to face the source of the sound. Mind you, the turning around part took lightyears.

Then I saw him. The brown hair, the nose, the soft lips. The denim jacket, the white top, the khaki jeans. And those irresistible, startling green eyes. The same smile was playing on his lips as our eyes met. I would say that my jaw dropped open but that would be an understatement.

Was I dreaming again? Did something horrible happen to my brain and had permanently etched his features into my memories so that I was seeing him everywhere? I took another good look and noticed that the soft breeze was making his hair sway a little, and that his sneakers were a little muddy. It had definitely rained today. This is real!

He looked even more perfect in person. Without taking my eyes off his, I dropped my journal on the grass. The breeze flicked through a few of its pages and opened on a page where I had sketched a perfect drawing of this boy.

His eyes dropped to the picture, and his smile widened, revealing two rows of white even teeth. He took a big step closer so we were now barely an inch away from each other.

It almost felt like were communicating through that powerful gaze, and it was so overwhelming. "I've been waiting a long time for you," he whispered in a velvety voice that summed all of his perfection.

My voice cracked at first when I attempted to respond. "I - I saw you in my dreams."

He never let go of that smile, and it was full of contentment and joy. His next words chilled me, but in a good way. "And you in mine," he murmured. I'd also realized one other thing; this grassy area was the field in my dreams!

It was all meant to come true. This boy, whose name I had no knowledge of yet as of that moment, was and is going to be the love of my life for all eternity. Our eyes closed in unison as our lips met.

We were meant to be, whether it be in dreams or reality.

© 2011 P. Bienert

Author's Note

P. Bienert
I haven't written a story in ages so I apologize for any grammatical errors. I wrote this one out of sheer boredom in less than 2 hours, so hope you enjoy it! Do you think there's a chance of turning it into a book?

My Review

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This is really well written. You have an intriguing voice and your writing is very clean. I enjoyed the topic a lot. I think we can all relate to having the type of dreams that affect us long after we've woken up. I like the honesty the character brings to the story, admitting how much it affects them. Great work!

Posted 11 Years Ago

This is awesome! I love it! Keep up the good work!

Posted 11 Years Ago

set up great, you wrote it with wonderful imagery and detail. So in that matter I enjoyed this immensely.

Posted 11 Years Ago

1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

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3 Reviews
Added on November 22, 2011
Last Updated on November 22, 2011


P. Bienert
P. Bienert

Sunderland, Tyne & Wear, United Kingdom

I've been writing since I was about eleven and have always been a frustrated writer. I'm fond of crime/mystery novels, horror movies, and long walks in the park. Yes, I can be the most random person b.. more..


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