1. dreams

1.2K 27 9
                                    

Oops! Această imagine nu respectă Ghidul de Conținut. Pentru a continua publicarea, te rugăm să înlături imaginea sau să încarci o altă imagine.

This story needs to be rewritten, beware typing errors friends :)

Oops! Această imagine nu respectă Ghidul de Conținut. Pentru a continua publicarea, te rugăm să înlături imaginea sau să încarci o altă imagine.

This story needs to be rewritten, beware typing errors friends :)

June 4th, 1986. Curt and my house. 1:36 A.M.

This time I was all alone, in the middle of a vacant road, sprinting as fast as my legs could take me down the street towards an empty lot.

I reached the block of land just as Roland ran in as hard as he could from the opposite direction. His face distraught, he searches around frantically for me to be standing there waiting for him.

I began to race towards him, but oddly enough he couldn't see me. His face brightened up more than I've ever seen in my entire life, but it wasn't me he was smiling at.

Standing where I once stood was his now girlfriend, Kate. She's dressed in his favourite sundress, red lips and rosy pink cheeks. Her blonde hair swayed down just how he liked it on women.

As they approached each other, the sound of sirens became more apparent. Police cars rolled up cutting Kate and I from Roland with a sudden gush of smoke. I hear the car doors slam shut as the cops leaped out, but I couldn't see a thing.

Roland didn't even reach the street lamp before he was stopped in place, completely surrounded by them. I wanted to go for him, to grab him and pull him into my arms, but a uncontrollable force held me back.

I cried out, only my voice blistered up and only shrieked a mild scream of nothingness. I watched as Roland jerked a gun up out of his waistband, where I realised he was wearing those new jeans I had brought for his birthday. It felt like a life time ago.

The guns from the officers all aimed at him, and the smoke finally subsided when the echoing of the bullets forced my knees to buckle beneath myself. All that I heard next was the impact from the bullets piercing his skin and the thud of his body on the gravel.

I lift my head up wanting to see him for the last time, but the sudden haze of that world blew out and I shot awake from my nightmare. My body drenched in sweat, I felt like a crazy woman with my heart feeling like it would burst out of my chest and fly across the room.

It took me all of a minute to realise I was in the safe comfort of my bed with my exhausted husband laying next to me. I lay my head back on the pillow, recently I've been having dreams about Roland's death, only he's alive and well.

He's grown up with Curt and I all our lives, I couldn't overcome the urge to cry from these frequent nightmares, tonight was no exception. In a moment my vision blurred with tears swelling in my eyes, they felt heavier than usual and even began to sting like acid.

A scratchy feeling in my throat wouldn't cease either, I cough and cough out slightly trying not to wake the sleeping beauty besides me. The feeling became more overwhelming, and harder to hold back, my bottom lip starts to quiver and it's no use, I bawl out a shriek then hold myself back again when I feel the bed shift.

He heard me crying, I knew it too when he rolls over exhaustively throwing an arm over my body, he shifts closer until I'm in his arms, the pounding of my chest against his arm.

I never told Curt about the dreams, maybe it was because of a wicked fantasy I kept deep, deep down inside, an almost uncertainty about Roland I had. 

The uncontrollable wailing made me hate myself even more, how could he be so understanding to these night terrors, I have been waking him up every night for three weeks, "Shhh." He comforts me, nestling his face in my hair, keeping you warm, "It's okay baby."

Damn, He Can't CompareUnde poveștirile trăiesc. Descoperă acum