Dreams that Never Wake

It filtered even into my childhood dreams, the fear. I lay in the darkness, rocking back and forth. There’s dirt encrusted upon my skin, under my nails. I listen to the sound of my laboured breathing as I lay in this cold, disgusting basement. The instinct to flee, run, has long died. Now it's something I can only dream of. Dreams with the clarity of a blue sky, the endless height and freedom of the trees, the love of a family, the joy of pure freedom... My beautiful dream is unbalanced, something out of place. Somethings coming. Now.

My breathing stops, the only sound, my fanatic heart and thumping.

Thumping.

The rhythmic sound fills me with despair, for a reason I can’t recall.

The thumping continues, the rhythm changing. The sound is faster, clearer and closer. I can almost touch it, but I wouldn’t dare…

The noise quickly becomes louder, and I can feel it vibrating though the dark place I’m laying.

The thumping stops, a blinding light strikes across my face, over my too long dilated pupils. As my vision becomes clearer, I see the silhouette of a tall man. Then I remember. The thumping. Footsteps. The pure evil of a man lost in inhumanity. I’m grabbed roughly, violently, my thin, childish shoulders screaming with aching pain. My heartbeat screaming, running rapidly. Before I can mount a scream the thumping begins. It’s a different kind of thumping I’m feeling now.