Dive: A TharnType Story

32

5 Years Later

Running. Type was running through an endless bowling alley. He heard the now familiar roar from behind him and what followed is the rumbling of the ground underneath his feet. He turned and saw his now longtime friend: a t-rex. 

The ground gave out from under his foot and he fell. He landed on a crunchy surface. He looked around and everything was golden and oily. The smell of fried chicken assaulted his senses and he looked up and saw the white brim of the bucket. He started to climb out of the giant bucket of fried chicken that he'd fallen into, the roars and the rumbling still shaking his being.

Just as he was about to climb out, he saw Tharn standing at the brim, waving at him excitedly. His cheeks, round and rosy. Just as he reached out for Tharn, his hand slipped and he fell.

Type jolted awake.

Fuck.

That stupid dream again.

Type rubbed his face and turned to look at the time.

4:30 a.m. Ah, well, 4:30 today. It was getting better.

He got out of bed and shuffled into his kitchen to start a pot coffee.

He sat at the counter and stared off into the distance, recounting the dream. The whistle of the pot brought him back to the present. He poured himself his regular giant cup of black coffee and sat back down.

It was the same dream. Over and over again. His dreams were like a broken record now. He'd seen the same sequence of events so many times that his dream self was also basically going through the motions now. 

He'd laugh at the absurdity of the dream if it didn't twist the knife that had found a home in his chest every single time. It was always the bowling alley and a t-rex chasing him. Every 20 paces he'd look back and see the t-rex running full tilt at him and every time he'd lift his foot to take the 36th step, the ground would give way and he'd fall. 

It was an endless cycle of running, falling and climbing out. The only way he'd wake up is when 9 year old Tharn showed up at the brim of the bucket. However, he'd never been able to reach Tharn. Every single time he'd reach out, he'd fall and then wake up.

Sometimes, he dreamt that he was running in the halls of his university. Calling out to Tharn. He'd see glimpses of a smiling 18 year old Tharn before he disappeared behind a waterfall of codes. Very Matrix. Though, this dream was less frequent.

He'd been plagued by these nightmares for the past 5 years but he'd never made it to Tharn. Always falling short of a few inches. 

It wasn't like this before. Years back, his dreams were beautiful. Tharn was there and they were happy. He never left. They'd go bowling and eat chicken. They would play games and build Lego t-rexes. As time progressed, his beautiful dreams turned into twisted nightmares and stayed that way.

He gulped down the rest of his coffee and began his day. The moment he locked his door to leave for work, he locked the thoughts of Tharn away for the day. He couldn't allow himself to think of him outside of his home. It was the only way for him to keep going about his day. He'd learnt through experience. It most definitely had not been an easy 5 years, but he was learning. He even got to sleep for all of 4 hours before he was jolted awake. This was progress.