𝘄𝗵𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗶𝗻𝗱 ~ 𝗮 𝘀𝗵𝗼𝗿𝘁 𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘆

Whistle In The Wind

Excruciatingly, I forced my eyes open, although I had only just closed them moments before; I was here again... Around me the atmosphere was eerie, the breath of my heated mouth felt so realistic as my cold feet stepped into the muddy ground beneath me. Huge, rough stones stood in an arch form while jet black gates lay across almost feeling suffocating. Last time my brain had taken me here, I didn't accept what was before me. Before I had seen the same murky fog, and instead viewed it as a barrier as the gates of hell were closed in front of me - however this time it was different. Ever since I accepted what had happened to me, my lucid dream was inviting me inside, a few meters ahead of me the gates were wide open.

Unnervingly, I knew I couldn't escape. I must enter. As if they were an invitation from the devil itself, I would just continually try to convince myself that I was just dreaming. Nothing here could harm me. Or could it? Once again doubts were clouding my mind, but I took that first step; that's when the whistling started. Towering trees were waving at me as if wishing me goodbye, almost as if, they knew something I didn't. Slowly, my other foot placed itself after the other and before I knew it, I was at walking pace.

Sudden screaming came from behind me as I turned to see those stiff gates closing tightly, trapping me in here even further. Although the gates were clean metal, even the sinister, silver moon which had an ominous, turquoise glow wouldn't create any reflection. No matter how hard I stared my face wasn't greeting me. The immense whistle in the wind grew harsher piercing my ears, reminding me of my past which I was trying so hard to forget. Carefully, I picked up my pace, if I didn't find what it was leading me to, I would be stuck here forever, something which felt much worse than death. Almost for a second, I had let my eyes fall shut but when I pulled them back open, my heart had increased in speed pumping vigorously through my body. Was my brain playing tricks on me? Familiar rocks were above my head as the dark gates were back in front of me once again, although they were suddenly open once again.
"But I had already walked through here..." I subconsciously muttered, sensing the pouring sweat down the back of me. So, I walked through again, this time more confident, although the trees were waving much more brutally. Around me, I heard the lifeless forest as if it was representing the death, I was so afraid of, the taste hanging at the back of my throat. All the fog which hung around me was so thick I couldn't even see the dangers in front of me, but I continued until my feet stood cold in the ground. The gates had appeared for the third time.

It was after the fourth time, that I knew something was wrong, and almost instantly, my head shot to look backwards when I saw it. Almost too far away to make out the face but the darkness across the figure illuminated it like a jet-black shadow. Inside me I felt as my body pumped ferociously, hardly letting me breathe. It was time to run. Finally, this adrenaline which had been saving up inside me came out as my heavy body darted forward once again through the devilish gates. Behind me I could hear it, almost this representation of my own fear which was constantly chasing after me. Soon I saw the haunted gates appear before my eyes once again. Already I knew I couldn't stop so I continued right through letting the crying sounds of death echo out as I pushed myself through them. As if like a mirror, I saw the dark shadow now in front of me instead of behind me, as if those gates were just a tele-porter although I knew there was much more to it than that.

"Who are you." I shouted forcing the last remaining bit of energy to come out. Maybe facing my fear was the answer... Picking up my pace, I started to walk towards the shadow of my fear when I saw his face. The one I was trying to forget. My vision started to blur as the memories of my husband falling onto the train track haunted me. Why did he have to show up in my dreams it was too unfair.

"Follow me." Was all he said in an unreadable tone as he took hold of my wrist causing my entire body to tremble. Deafening whistles were crying out around me again now I was closest to my trauma. He led me through the gates for the final time and now the fog had completely disappeared as if on his command.
"Why." I screamed, tears blocking my vision. I just wanted to hug him. I wanted him back in my life. Forcing my body forward I tried grasping him, but my arms phased right through causing my pain to be stronger.
"Why." I muttered quieter as I watched his body fade away into the air of my lucid dream as I was a wreck on the floor. He left me with one thing and that was a gravestone. His gravestone. The whistling surrounded me as I buried my head into my legs but soon reading the inscription on the gravestone.

"Why are you a whistle in the wind trying to change something that can never be changed. Accept what has happened."

It knew and I knew too... my husband was dead, and I could never get him back.