dream sequence | forty-nine

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The small square space was completely empty. Dark overgrown branches fell in through the large window on the far wall and through that window the sun began to trickle in. The storm clouds that had rolled through had dispersed into a misty haze just in time for me to see the sun as it set.

Yellows, oranges and reds streaked the sky and as I stood up to full height within the tree house, I drank up the beautiful sight. My dreams were changing in a way I couldn't understand. This had been the first time I'd seen something so vibrant and clear in my muted, dark mind.

My gaze pealed away from the sky as the sun continued to lower, light beams cascading in through the window to give the room a warm glow. My eyes trailed along the branches as they twisted and turned into the room and then back out again. A light smile formed as I caught sight the budding flower as I looked back out through the window. It was set all the way at the end of thinnest branch, and like I was, soaked up the sun's rays.

I squinted as I brought my hand up to shield my eyes from the sun, more light finding its way into the room. I watched as the branches of the tree casted shadows across the floor, the setting sun helping them grow and weave their way toward me. The warm glow of the sun and the pretty pink bud distracted all my senses from the dark jagged forms that danced around my feet.

The floor below me creaked and as I took a step toward the flower, a strange scent hitting my nostrils the second I made a move. My body halted and my hand flew up to cover my face. It smelled like gasoline.

A cool breath of air wafted over the back of my neck, the hairs on my arms standing up on end as I felt that familiar cold hand grab at me. It seemed as though the light outside was fading too quickly, nighttime descending on my mind. I gasped and spun around, taking faulty steps backward until I lost my footing and came crashing to the floor.

The orange light had grown a shade cooler. The shadows from the branches now looked more menacing from where I sat. The tips of the shadows began to conjoin, spreading upward against the opposite wall until a figure exploded out from them. My shadow hung there, the black haze that continuously surrounded him moved from side to side.

My breath caught in my throat as the smell of gas filled the room and I once again covered my nose. I almost gagged at the smell, instantly pulling my hand away. I could smell it everywhere. On my hands, on my clothes as though I was drenched in the flammable substance. My eyes shot upward toward the sound of metal crashing against the ground.

Liquid seeped from the canister that rocked back and forth across the floor. My body went numb as the sound of a spark igniting caught my attention.

"D-don't!" I could feel myself begin to shake as I called out to my shadow.

My trembling hand reached out as he held the lit match over the soaked floor, that terrifying grin appearing on his face as he teased the idea. My lips parted and my eyes grew wide in helpless astonishment. And as the match fell from between his fingertips I shut my eyes not ready for what was to come.







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Mr. Misty-Eyed | Josh DunWhere stories live. Discover now