Dreamscape

“Ella, I don’t want to hear it anymore! It’s time for bed and that's final!” 

My mother was pissed. I was fourteen years old and afraid to go to sleep. She didn’t understand though. She never listened when I tried to explain why I needed to stay up. She just saw pills and caffeine to keep me awake. She told me I was just being defiant. She didn’t listen. She took my pills, and hid all the caffeinated drinks. She even stopped giving me my allowance because she didn’t want me buying more. She tried taking me to see a therapist, but they wouldn’t listen either.  Nobody believes me, and soon, it’ll be too late.

When I was eight years old I started having beautifully vivid dreams of lights and colors. They showed me beautiful scenes that looked like the ones in fairytales, and each night they grew even better. One night a voice spoke to me. It was an angelic voice that calmed me.

“Follow me. Follow me. Follow me.” The voice spoke this every night for a week. I finally decided to give in and followed the voice. She took me to a magical looking place with waterfalls and flowers and trees everywhere. It was the prettiest place I had ever seen. The only problem was I couldn’t physically touch anything. Over time though, the scenery began to change. It got darker and colder. The voice changed to. What had been so sweet and beautiful had turned into a high pitched and evil sound. The place began to resemble scenes from horror movies. It was always the same dark room with a big clock and dark shadows, and the worst part was the sinister whispering. This new room frightened me. I didn’t like it. Each night the clock ticked louder and I noticed it was going down. It was a countdown for something. As I got older the room became something normal, and even though it was scary, I ignored it. That's when it began changing again, and this time I started seeing a giant figure. It was about seven feet tall and had dark red eyes. It was the most terrifying thing I’d ever seen. The scariest part though, was what it said to me the night it showed up on my fourteenth birthday. 

“Times almost up” It whispered in the same voice I’d heard every night for six years. It pointed toward the clock as it said this. The clock on the wall had exactly four months,two weeks, twelve days, twenty-two hours, fifty-seven minutes and ten seconds left. That clock represented how much time I had left to live. I also noticed that this thing was able to touch me, because as soon as it said this, it scratched my arm. Each night when I’d fall asleep, it would hurt me in some way. I found it harder and harder to wake up. It's been four months, and if the thing is right, I only have a few days left. As the time got closer the effects became worse. One night I was being choked and when I woke up I had bruises and I had a hard time catching my breath.  After that I stopped sleeping. My mom noticed after three days and slipped a sleeping pill in my food. I went into the dreamscape, and saw the clock was the same as it had been days ago, as if it had been paused. When I woke up I saw my mom taking my stuff. That's how our fight started. Now I don’t know what's going to happen. We've been arguing about it for the last week. The clock says I have 1 day left. Tonight is my last night. The thing keeps laughing at me now. It knows that I’m doomed, and it knows it’ll be the cause. My mom looks at me differently too. I don't eat because I'm too nervous. I’m failing school now because I know there's no point in trying. My mom keeps telling me to rest. How am I supposed to rest when it's killing me? She didn’t listen, the therapist didn’t listen, and none of my so-called friends listened. Now I’m out of time and I don’t know what to do. My mom sent me to my room where I was fighting sleep. Of course. She gave me another pill. I was sitting at my desk, then bam, just like that I’m back in the dream. I look at the clock. Ten minutes. I don't see the thing, but I know it's close. I can somehow sense it. I was tired of living in a constant state of fear. I’d left a note on my desk so my mother would understand. When she comes to get me in the morning, she’ll see her mistake. She should have listened to me. She’ll regret it. Everyone will see that I wasn’t crazy. I kept looking back at the clock. It now said five minutes. I began to hear the sinister laugh that had haunted me for days. The whispering from all those years ago was clear for the first time ever.

“Don’t follow her. Don’t follow her” I heard. It must have been warning me when I first followed the voice, but I didn’t notice because of the beauty. Then in the distance I saw the same red eyes I’d seen for the past six years. They were getting closer. The laughing got louder. My heart was pounding. My senses were heightened. I could feel the thumping all through my body. I could feel my blood getting hotter. It was getting hard to breathe.Now the thing was standing right in my face. I looked at the clock. Two minutes. I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths. They didn’t help. I stood there feeling the hot breath on my face. All of a sudden, the laughing stopped. I opened my eyes and looked at the clock. 3….I took a breath……..2……another breath……….1………this time I held my breath

“Times up” It whispered. I felt a sharp pain in my stomach. I looked down to see it had shoved something in my stomach. I was bleeding everywhere. I collapsed, and felt my heart stop. Somehow, I woke up in a white room. I was in the hospital! My mom had come into my room and saw me laying on my floor, a knife in my stomach. When she saw my note she assumed it was a suicide attempt. I was in the psychiatric ward for weeks. I didn't even try telling them about the dream anymore. They wouldn't have listened anyway. I let them believe they helped me. They deemed me healthy, and sent me home. I haven’t had the dream since. I hope it stays that way too.