March 17th, 2010
Open Question: Can you find the things listed (very bottom you’ll see 12 things) in story?ten points?
A Dream Not Taken
What happens when you go to the pool? Fun, craziness, people – well, girls gossip about their clothes and whatnot. Boys have fun running around and dumping each other in the water like naïve masochists. Most of all, everybody had not a single care in their 3 hours of water, sun and freedom. Until it happened. A single moment changes the whole entire chance of proving ourselves worthy of surviving in this world. Not to an entity, but a conscience that dwells within us and tells us about me, you and the things it thinks I should think. So in a sense, we are all slaves to the being in us. Forced to think how they want us to. That day proved to me it can happen. And it will happen. I’ll make it happen.
It was a clear and sunny day in the quaint town of Paradis, in French meaning paradise … when the unimaginable nightmare came to life in an uncanny sense. The kids were playing in their yards, parents chatting over coffee, I myself, being an active person, was at the public pool with my friends, ready to show off my wonderful dive, maybe even impressing them all with the new trick I learned: the Devil Morne. My best friend made up that name, and I seemed to be drawn to it.
“Hey everyone! Watch this!”
I see the crowd form from the other side of the pool, since they know I need 3 feet of space, and then room for my wild show of me tripping like a lummox, which some people believe I am. Who am I to judge, right?
I backed up a little, took off my blue jean shorts, already with grass stains the size of leprechauns on the sides from football practice, wiggled my nose like my cat Startlet, (but I thought of it first, no matter what she says) and started running. I can’t complain with my legs, but they sometimes can be a little stupid. As I watch where to dive best, everything became almost slow motion. Really slow motion. Then I stop right by the edge and watch everyone still stays in slow motion. My heart skips a beat. The beat is soft and reassuring, as if it were the only thing that kept me sane in my bubble of opaqueness while the world around me believes it’s normal. It’s not. Right? What is happening? Its like they’re all in a cheesy horror movie, and I’m the star. I look down at my legs and see a ring slowly appear around my body on the ground. Its made of pale emerald dust, or so I thought until something began to grow. I look around and see the crowd suddenly look into the water. They seem entranced by a gentle piano lullaby. I listen closer, trying to figure out where I heard that piece from. I look again into the water and see it turn a ghastly shade of Venetian red, then becoming a thicker substance than water but like … blood. The piano music just intensifies and becomes clearly heard as the Moonlight Sonata goes on. Just as the happy part becomes heard, it’s cut off by a sudden burst of flames.
I feel a scream climbing up my throat, not knowing what just happened, but before it can be released onto the outskirts of the emerald bubble, I feel a hand on my mouth. It kept my head and eyes onto the people and the flames. I tried to flap my hands and kick whatever was restraining me from flinching away and run to a psychiatrist, but the hand stayed put like steel. Some of the people there were old, some young, but all were in a deathly march toward the flames. A horrific sight I will never get out of my mind. A smooth, deep voice interrupts my little reverie. It was like silk. Alluring, yet there is a certain deadly and poisonous tone.
“This is my favorite part. Right… now.”
As if on cue, the groans of the people started become quieter, and the looks on their faces more frozen. The first one I saw, a woman with a light purple, almost periwinkle, beach dress started to look… happy. Something about her whole look just creeped me out. I suddenly flick my head away from the restraining hand and run towards the people, trying to do something. Looking at her, I notice her hair jolt upwards and into flame. The music was like an anesthetic and nobody could feel any pain, so the flames could engulf them. But who and why? The flames are beautiful, though. A truly fantastic view of an almost portal, whishing quickly and silently, like a killer of the night. Like a… a fear that clings to a fly that is trapped in a web.
With that, I jolt upwards and open my eyes. I gasp. I can’t believe this was all a dream. I walk to the television, hoping to flick the terrible dream to the corner of my brain, away from any ideas that might form. I turn the TV on and see nothing I wouldn’t normally see. Anchors lightly laughing and the weatherman off as usual. Just then do I hear the gentle breathing of my brother on the sofa. He is wide-awake, staring at me.
Psychotic much? Hey listen, some dude called you and wanted to leave word about some emergency. There’s a note on the fridge if you care.
I thank him and notice the light green post it not
