Nightmares

A Mistake

I shot the glass entering God's Window. The workers inside were scattering in fear. I hopped over the main desk and grabbed the manager.
"Is Mark White here today?" I asked her.
She pointed into the men's room. Obviously he would be getting a little surprise visit from me. A fatal ending to a horrible relationship that he threatened me with.
I burst into the men's room and slowly started to kick in each stall door. I was infuriated with rage until I turned to the last stall. I pointed my pistol at the door and shot into it. I didn't hear the bullets connect with flesh.
"That bitch!" I was even more ridden with rage.
The men's room door opened, Mark White entered with a double barrel shotgun.
"You want to come into my home and disrespect my employees? No. You can't do that man." He said.
I raised my gun to him. His grip on the trigger tightened. I cracked my neck and kept my eyes on his fingers. Mark watched my movements carefully. It was a classic standoff.
"So are you going to shoot?" I asked. "Punish me. I want to see you do it."
Mark shook his head, "You don't want this."
I started to flick my gun in his face, "Who are you to tell me what I want! You forced me into this line of work and fucked my life! You don't have the God damned right to tell me what I want in life!"
"I fucking saved you! You have no clue what situation you were in before this! All of my employees were like you, working minimum wage and juggling two jobs! I saved your ass from bankruptcy!" Mark yelled back.
I shook my head, "All you ever did was fuck up my life, heed my warning that I will fuck yours up too."
Mark pulled the trigger sending pellets of balls into my torso. The blood gushed out of my body quickly. The force of the pellets pushed my body against the wall.

I woke up almost screaming. It was a bad dream, I wouldn't consider it a Nightmare but I can consider it less of one. I respect my nerves for not killing me in my sleep. Ever since I mentioned killing Mark, Chelsea bugged me about it to the point it messed with my nerves. I had no clue she was so excited to kill someone. I don't care as long as she gets what she deserves and he dies. I really hope she will be able to find a home. Though it doesn't bother me that she lives here, I find my peace to be completely destroyed. It was surprising ever since the beginning and it's getting even more surprising.
"You alright?" Chelsea asked.
She was lying right next to me with the blanket covering her bare body. My eves were inadvertently aiming towards her breasts, I think she knew. I got up from the bed which answered her question. I stumbled into the bathroom and gagged over the sink. My body felt like it were bubbling to the point of exploding. I fell over the toilet and let my stomach empty.
Chelsea was at the doorway, she was covered with my bedsheets.
My eyes were tearing and felt as though a cat was gnawing on them. My body felt worse, and I had no way I would actually be able to go to "work" today. I've had enough Nightmares to begin with.
My entire world began to shake, and I was seconds from falling back until the door rang. I stood up quickly and moved into the hallway. I stared intensely at the door for what seemed like years.
"Are you goi--?"I stopped Chelsea from speaking and kept my glare at the door. The doorknob turned and all I felt was my heart fall a thousand Earths.
"The door is locked." I thought aloud.
I walked slowly to the door, clearing the tears in my eyes. My body thrust towards the door and let it swing open.
"Hello there." Mark had a gun pointed to me and fired in an instant.
I felt a rough punch in my left shoulder, it was like a beat in my arm wanting to make a song. I was forced back, confusing my body and tripping. I fell in slow motion it was like my brain was trying to process what has just happened. Blood passed through my body and out like children grasping for candy at a birthday.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Chelsea yelled at Mark.
"I am proving a point to an unfaithful employee." Mark gleamed over me like a lion stalking its prey.
I gripped violently at the bullet wound, my breaths were sharp and heavy. "W-what did. . . .I d-do wrong?" My words were coming out slower than I though I said them.
"What did you do wrong? What the fuck didn't you do wrong? You seriously are going to lie on the floor bleeding and ask me what you did wrong? You piece of fucking shit!" Mark was going off, his time of patience was over.
Mark continued to call me things as he pointed the gun towards my face. My body was melting in the ground, Lucifer has already put me through enough.
In a moments notice, I was sitting on my couch. I frantically scanned the room as my head was spinning.
"Jesus, are you okay?" Chelsea asked. Her voice was soft and gentle. It soothed me a bit. "You attacked yourself with a knife, were you going through depression?"
Did I really attack myself? All I remember was getting shot and falling down, but maybe it was a dream.
My reality doesn't even know what it is anymore.
I felt a presence of something, it was directed towards the floor of my house. I looked down and saw a chip of wood on the floor. It was glowing in my head and pushing my body towards it.
I picked it up and all of its force was gone, but in a sudden moment I was jerked forward.
I fell to the ground and lost my orientation.
"Alright, let's get a move on!" A man said from the outside.
I heard lots of machines and men from out of my home. I quickly got up and moved to the window. My house was still on the water, and I was still watching them move it.
"Hey! Stop what you're doing! You can't move my house!" I pleaded almost at the top of my lungs.
I don't think they can hear me.
The house creaked and snapped from the stilts it was founded upon. I flew into the coffee table, and it didn't break. Then the house shifted its movements and I was thrown into the window. Once again, it didn't break.
Just what is going on here?
I hit my head hard against the couch when the house was slammed into the dirt. I fell unconscious. When I came to, I was back on my couch and holding the piece of wood.
"Are you actually okay like I'm dead serious." Chelsea asked. "You were gone for a moment."
I grabbed my head, it was dizzy. "Honestly, I can't tell. I think I just saw a memory of when the house was put on the dirt."
What does this have to do with anything? Why did I see that, or how did I?
"Well, we still have work today." Chelsea mentioned.
I stood from the couch and moved into the bedroom. I felt another presence, it was directed to the bed frame this time. I looked closely at the wood carving, it was shaped like a knife had cut through it.
In a sudden movement, I was forced back.
"Goddamnit! That piece of shit really thinks he can fire me?" I heard myself coming into the room.
These are memories. Just like dreams I can actually see and experience them, though I can't change or interact with the past.
My past self threw his clothing on the bed. The belt swung hard and cut the bed frame. It was a heavy sounding cut, screeching for that fraction of a second.
"Oh man, what am I going to do now?" He said.
I walked over to my past self and looked at him. It was the time I was fired from my job working for the council. I half-created this city and I was very close to making the police more efficient until someone exploited my dirty ways. Though I was fired, I had no real way to stop fighting for what was right.
"So now I can see the past huh? Wonder what that will do when I am in a Nightmare?" I thought aloud.
My past self sat up on the bed and stood quiet. His face, red from anger and hot from the summer air. It was a devastatingly heated week in both mental and physical.
I sat next to myself.
"You really messed up huh? Wonder what she'll do if she saw this right? Yeah, you won't see it coming but it'll happen." I said to myself as though he could hear me.
That was also the week that I had gotten a divorce, sadly enough she was having an affair with an old college friend of mine. I wasn't mad at her, just more of confused.
"Fuck man, why am I a fuck-up?" He questioned.
I stood up from the bed and walked out into the hallway. I turned to the plant sitting in the corner, it was almost lifeless. The green color practically faded away and even more so than the dirt.
How do I leave this memory? Or the memories?
I turned into the living room and glanced out the window. There was a woman standing behind a tree, staring while weeping. Her coat was polyester and colored like a rainbow. Her face was covered in running makeup and her lips were pink. She wore heels and black leggings along with a skirt so short you could confuse her with. It wearing anything under at all.
My past self walked out of the room and into the kitchen, he grabbed tequila and started pouring.
Right, I remember this despite being drunk in a couple minuets. I wonder what this has to do with anything, both were activated by wooden things. A wooden chip and my fell den bed frame, both had to do with my house. It seems like both were also devastating times.
My hand was on my chin, and my head ached with questions. I turned back to the window and the woman was gone.
Hmm? That's it! I get it now!
The memory began to fade, and I was put into my present day.
I lunged from the couch and turned to Chelsea in amusement.
"I get it! The devastating times are warning me, the house is warning me of not paying attention. The woman and being fired are reminding me of mistakes I should not repeat! Well maybe that's what they mean." I rained on my parade.
There was a knock on the door.
I walked to the peephole and looked through. It was the same woman as in my memory. She was outside my door almost a year after stalking my house?
I placed my hand on the door.