The House

Based on a series of dreams I had.

            At night I would dream of a house, sometimes mine, sometimes not. Then she would come. Though I've never seen her, I could always feel her presence. Obviously, I would run, leave the house. That never worked. I'd open the front door and tear out into the night, but it was never there.

            Maybe this is why I'm so comforted by the night, because I could never reach it when I wanted to. Most people find the night evil. Night brings serenity, but then again, so does death. These are just parts of life though. The night is calm and relaxing. Why else would sunsets be so beautiful besides their colors. It's the death of the working-day and the birth of the wonders of the night. Contrast always brings out the most of what you want and if the night is dark then it just intensifies the light in things.

            Back to the story. I would open the door and tear out into the same house. Well, I shouldn’t say the same house. Slight differences would appear. For example, An archway may be more wide than normal or the paint on the walls would change. You would think that after awhile I would stop running through the houses, but in my mind I was still being chased, it was life or death. So I ran and ran. then when the house was completely changed, when it wasn't even similar to its original form I would run to the door. It was locked, but at this point I didn't know if I was scared or relieved.

            Like in death. When you think your going to die, you're scared. When most know for certain they will die, they're relieved. It's a lot like life too. There are those who know life is bad, and those that think life is bad. If you think everything is terrible then you will become depressed, when you know life is terrible and realize there is nothing to do about it, you except it. Often times excepting the unchangeable is more beneficial then attempting to change it and failing.

            Then I would wake up. Now this may seem anticlimactic, but there were two ways this dream went. There was also somewhat of a prologue, like most of my reoccurring dreams as of lately. The second way this dream went is when I got to the door and it didn't open, I kicked at. I bashed and slammed it with all of my might. Then It gave out. I sprinted down my street to the corner where I tripped over a canvas bag covered in flies. The smell of it was awful. With closer examination, I noticed that it had maggots on it, and though I couldn't recognize any features of what was in it, I felt sad. It wasn't exactly sadness, it was more of a gut-wrenching emptiness. I felt souless at that moment, and for whatever reason I walked slowly back to the house. Everything outside was exactly the same besides the absence of people and the sky was a shade of green. The green that normally comes before a tornado. I looked at my house and sat. Then I woke up.

 

            The prologue of this dream isn't exactly all that similar to the reoccuring dream that haunted my childhood. This dream stopped when I was around nine, then I thought it was over. But when I turned fourteen I was staying at my grandma's house which was a long drive from my hometown, about five or six hours. This dream might have happened because I was slightly intoxicated (It was the 4^th of July) and I was takning notes from things I saw or experienced and was trying to put them into a story. Anyways It started out kind of odd.

            I'm not entirely sure if I was at my grandma's house in the dream, but I was somewhere far away. I remember climbing onto a train, alone. It wasn't very large, and there weren't many people on it either. When I looked ou the window I found that there wasn't much but fields, then again I live in South Dakota so that's pretty normal. When I got back to my small hometown of 6,500 people, I didn't go to my house or at least I don't remember doing so. I do, however, remember going to a popular gas station. There I was greeted by many of my close companions that were seated in a back dining area. While they talked I walked over to get a small bacon cheeseburger pizza (Which are pretty great.) I saw a man that didn't seem to fit in. He wasn't dressed funny nor did he himself come off as queer. He was just... strange. He noticed me staring and I quickly turned back at the aisles. Without making a noise he came up behind me gave me a letter stamped with wax.

            I'm not really sure what was written on the letter but it had to with locations for things. He knew about the girl. He told me her story which I don't remember perfectly, but here's the gist.

            There was a family which consisted of a mom,a dad, and four young girls. The three older girls were all sweet and loveable, but the last one felt left out for whatever reason. So one night she crept into the girls bedroom. They shared a room. It was 1:39 in the morning. I remember that because those numbers are now stuck in my head. She killed all of her sisters and both of her parents. I questioned why this was such a problem for me. It was such a generic story. A girl gets sad and kills her family. There's nothing too interesting.

            So I met the stranger, that I have come to call Wolfe, in a tunnel in a side of a small mountain that was lined with bricks. Wolfe, me, and about six other people travelled into the tunnel with torches. We came to a large underground sluice gate system that was engraved with faces. We jumped into the water. I don't know how I got there but I came to in a room filled with distorted monsters. Our small group fought with passion and I slowly worked my way to the back of the room. There I found a dagger in a stone mouth statue. When I grabbed it I turned around and saw a man's face twist and stretch as the room grew a shade of dark blue and everybody in the room disappeared. Then I noticed a door to the right side of the room. I walked up to it and opened it slowly. My heart dropped as I looked in and noticed that it was the same house that my house always turned into when I had that old nightmare. I walked slowly into the room that I remembered so well. The bedroom of the four girls. I looked around. It was so silent, I could hear every footstep as it hit the hardwood floor. I looked at the clock 1:36 I stood there and stared at the beds. There were only three bodies.

            I stood there and thought about all the times I've had this terrible dream. I wondered why I was having this dream, what it meant.

            I looked at the clock. 1:39. I heard small footsteps running down the wooden hallway. I was trembling with fear. I had no idea what to do when she came to me. Then suddenly a thing about waist high sprinted into me and hit the ground. Without thinking I swung the dagger down and hit the girl. Then I heard the loudest scream i've ever heard. Then it stopped and it was the most quiet enviroment I have ever been in.

            Then I woke up with cold sweats and shivering. I have never had this dream again.