The Dream

The alarm clock goes off, but instead of the usual "beep, beep, beep", a song plays. I can't make out the words, only the rough beat of the drum. Oddly, it's comforting, soothing me back to sleep. Something keeps me up, not allowing my body to relax. I'm alert, but drifting back to sleep at the same time. My body is confused, cautious but relaxed. I try to shut off the alarm, stop the music, and close my eyes. No matter how many times I try to reach the alarm I can't push the button down to stop the beat.

I try to get up. Maybe I can stop the music floating around my room. Pushing the blankets back, I try to lift my legs only to find them stuck, glued to the bed. I'm relieved when I can sit up and look around me. My room is different. Gone is the bra hanging out of my drawer and the pants on the floor. In its place are guy's clothes, strewn around the room like someone was in a hurry while finding something to wear. I look next to me and the bed is empty, but the imprint of a body remains. I try to remember if I was sleeping with anyone, and can't remember anything about the night.

The drum's rhythmic mantra is still playing, filling the silent night.

Something moves in front of me, catching my attention and drawing my eyes to the dark hallway. I never sleep with my door open.

I try to make out if someone is there or if my mind is playing tricks on me. Once again I try to get out of bed, but my legs are still trapped by the invisible rope holding them down.

"Hello?" I call out, my voice only a whisper underneath the volume of the alarm.

No response is given.

Faintly, the drum pattern changes so slightly it could barely be heard. It moves faster, the banging harder. It's as if the person controlling the drum sticks isn't in control at all, only a puppet of the instrument.

There's someone watching me. I can feel it. Their eyes are following my every moment with precision like focus. I try to shake off the feeling to no avail. I turn my attention to the room again. I must've missed something. Scanning my room, there's a shadow on my window. A big shadow, one I know I cannot make. I gasp and look behind me. Is there someone with me? Is that shadow the person who's watching me?

There's no one there and I shake off my paranoia. I close my eyes again and try to calm my thumping heart.

My guard is down but the beat gets quicker, out of control even. If I could just shut off the music I would be able to sleep. I sit up again and reach out. Why can't I press the button? It's right there. I can always shut it off.

There's a thump, someone dropping something possibly. My eyes rip away from the clock and go back to the dark hallway. There's nothing there, but a shadow right out my door. He's watching me, a smirk curving his lips. Why? Can he help me?

"Hello?" I call out again.

My palms get sweaty, my heart tries to beat its way out of my chest, and tears prick at my eyes. I need to get out of here. Shut off the music, turn on a light, go back to sleep, anything to get away. I don't want to be here.

Another shadow joins the first shadow and I cry out in terror. He pulls at the first shadow, pointing at my shaking form. Can't they see I'm scared enough? Why won't they leave me alone?

"Get out!" I scream, my voice trembling.

They do nothing but laugh at my pathetic demand. With adrenaline rushing through my veins, I twist and turn trying to break out of the invisible weights around my legs. My arms swing out and knock into the clock sending it flying to the floor. I catch a glimpse of the time: 4:34 am. Why is my alarm going off so early? I never wake up at this time.

With the drums spurring me on, I continue to struggle in the bed. Twisting, turning, swiping at my legs, anything to be set free, and end this nightmare.

In a desperate attempt at ending this, I plea for help from the shadows.

"Just turn on the light, please. I don't like the dark."

They only stare at me, a pair of blue eyes shining amidst the darkness. I cling onto them, making them my solace.

He never blinks, never takes his eyes off mine, never closes them.

The music begins to fade away along with the rest of the room until I am standing outside of a door on my campus. What am I doing here?

I try to walk and open the door, but my feet are planted and I can only touch the handle with my fingertips. I lean forward, trying to get a better grip and pull myself through. I can't.

The door swings open and I'm thrown backward, my feet losing their weights. The person who swung the door open stopped to look at me. The same brilliant blue eyes from my room look at me now. There's recognition in them. He knows me.

Another person runs out of the same door, I stay on the floor and watch the scene play out.

He calls out a name. It's all muffled like he's underwater. He pauses to look at me and calls the name again. I make out a strong beginning, a dominant sound, similar to a 'D'. Dylan? David? No. Those don't seem right. He puts his hand out for me to grab. Hesitantly, I reach my own daintier hand out and he grabs hold of it. Pulling me up, I fly into his chest. His arms lock around me and I struggle to get away.

"Say no," he whisper-yells to me in a rush.

Then he lets me go and I fall back to the ground. The last thing I hear before I am transported back into my quiet bedroom is him calling out the name "Damon."