You Cannot Run From What You Cannot See #FearFest
Every night, I dream the same dream… and every night, death gets closer. I’m afraid to fall asleep, not knowing if I will wake the next morning. So every day, I move to a new place, hoping to outrun it, though I cannot run as fast as he.
It begins the same way. I find myself in that field, under that rose tree. The tree is in full blossom, and the heady smell of the flowers overwhelms my senses. I know something isn’t right. But I can’t explain it.
It’s a sort of presence, always seeing. There’s something distinctly animalistic about it.
Then I hear it. A low, guttural growl.
I begin to walk. Then I begin to run. Then I begin to hide.
But I can’t hide from something I can’t see. Not forever, at least. The nearer he gets, the harder it is to move. So I stay still until I’m enveloped in fear. Then I wake up, and my lungs are empty.
I’ve been running for a while now. Tonight, I turn in early after a long journey and have trouble falling asleep as usual. But when I do, I’m back there again. And death seems to have finally caught up with me.
Trembling, I raise my face to his, and see him, clear as my own reflection. He holds me to his cold body in a lover’s embrace. It takes my breath away. Death looks a lot like people you used to know. Used to love.
But the living and the dead don’t belong to each other, except in dreams.
I know then that it wasn’t my house he was haunting. It was my thoughts. I have to stop dreaming, and I have to get back home. But the rose tree has blackened, and all that’s left of the roses are the petals that fell to the ground.
When I wake up, he’s over my head. But the claws on my face are my own.
The last thing I remember is the smell of summer roses in the air.
KEEP IN TOUCH!
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