The Tombstone

Dreams

***
I woke up to a fog, an eerie fog. The mist had wandered into the cabin, where everything lied still except for the air. Blank sheets of grey floated around, taking over empty space that consumed inside. The grey air floated around me while I sat on my mattress, giving me the shivers as goosebumps began to rise and spread. It gave off a breeze, a chilly one. I couldn't see my legs it spread so much. As I stood up, walking towards my dresser in search for a sweater, the fog moved with every step of my feet and movements. It looked as if thick sheets lied across the surface of the wooden floor, waiting to get tangled and entwined into each other. Fog seemed to overlap others, as it tumbled and fell. As I made it to my dresser, I opened the top drawer and pulled out a white cardigan, one of the many he gave me. As I pulled it on, I looked to my left and realized something. Something I was shocked that I had missed before: the door was open. The door that was usually locked and concealed me in this prison room. I walked over towards it slowly, waiting to see him or hear him, but no sound came. And then, the cool air came again, but from behind me this time. And the noise of wind running through the trees came towards me, also from behind. I made a sharp turn all around to face my window. And again to my surprise, the whole window was shattered. Glass surrounded the floor below it, scattered. Sharp edges of glass and bars. The outdoors were gloomy, the sky looking as if a storm was about to hit. But no lightning or thunder came from it. The fog flowed through the broken window, traveling through the wind.

The glass covered the floor it looked like now, some of the fog lifting and letting the floor show.
I had walked right through it. On top of the glass. But I didn't feel anything.
I looked down at my feet when I realized a red liquid was running from my feet. Blood. Cuts scattered over my feet, and shards of glass sticking out.
But I didn't feel it. I didn't feel anything. My feet felt fine, like nothing happened.
And then a noise came from the living room. An odd sound. I looked back down the hallway, in search for him, but he again was nowhere to be seen. I continued to follow the fog that surrounded the inside of the cabin, leading me down the hallway and to the living room, where it lied empty as well. More fog spread through, tracing the open space.
What was happening?
As I neared the living room, where that noise seemed to come from, I noticed that everything in the kitchen was gone. Everything. All that lied were the empty cupboards and pantry, looking as if no one had lived here for awhile. And then I peered at the living room, which the fog was starting to clear in. And again, no furniture lied there. Not like before. Everything was gone as well. Not even a lamp or a rug. Or a table. Or even the tiny radio that once sat on the counter close by the kitchen.
Where had he gone? Did he leave? Did he leave and move somewhere else? Did he leave me here? To die?
And as more questions began to rise in my head, I looked over and paid attention to the windows. And just like mine in my room, they were all shattered as well. Glass spread on the ground and in the frames. And the fog returned and filled the empty space. The windows all looked as if they had been blown up, or a certain force had its way with them. The cabin was now filled with cold air, making me grateful I grabbed the cardigan.

  And then suddenly, the noise came back around, causing me to jump with no expectancy. The noise sounded like a deep whistling, but not from a bird or a human, but from something inhuman. Perhaps. Maybe. But it sounded real, and big. As I turned around, I now noticed the front door was wide open. The entrance to that rigid cabin. The noise that came from the woods outside sounded scary, but at that moment, my freedom was more important to me than that. It seemed to trump it. And without another hesitation, I ran from the empty, unloving shack and straight into the cold, continuing forest. Not knowing which way to go, but at the same time not caring. I ran faster and faster by every second, gaining momentum and strength as I stretched my legs more. Letting them move in ways I haven't moved in awhile. I zigzagged in and out of trees, dodging branches and twigs. My bloody feet staining leaves and bark on the fallen ground, but I still didn't feel a thing. And for a moment, it almost felt as if I was floating. Flying throughout the forest. The woods. The woods that had concealed me inside them. Swallowed up. The wind blew in my face the faster I ran, giving me a sense of freedom and freshness. Something I longed for, for what seemed like awhile now.