HOWL
Are you dead or are you sleeping?
“RUN.” the long haired stranger bellows at me from under his black hat as the priest collapses down, bullet though his forehead and I just scream, terrified, unable to move.
I know it’s stupid, but it’s all I manage.
This isn’t real.
It can’t be real.
Then things happen very quickly, the dark haired stranger cock his gun and blows Elliot’s brain’s all over my dress, and something cold and hard pierces my shoulder, knocking all the wind out of me.
Before I have time to realize what is happening or the watery rose that is forming on my shoulder, the stranger seizes fiercely my hand we’re rushing out the church, dodging bullets, broken benches and through doors that open and close magically as if obeying the stranger’s will.
Someone wake me up.
We run so fast everything becomes a swirl of colours.
It’s like we’re flying.
I can’t feel my feet running or my legs aching with the exercise but it’s getting harder and harder to breath, every breath a short and painful gasp. Yet it’s very uncanny because it feels like I’m falling asleep as we continue to run as fast as we can.
You can’t fall asleep if you’re already in a dream, right?
Something’s wet and warm is dripping from my arm.
My hand is slipping.
Maybe I’m waking up.
Everything’s becoming very quiet now, no more blurred screams, doors banging open or gunshots. I can’t even hear our footsteps. All I can hear is my short ragged breathing and my heart beating inside my chest painfully: Lub- dub, Lub-dub, Lub-dub, Lub-
silence.
It’s a strange feeling, like we are falling in this white silence or I missed a step at the top of the stairs. For a moment we are covered in this white numbness and all we can see as we fall in it is the thick, bloody strings coming out of my chest, shockingly red against all the white. But now even the red strings are blurry against this blinding white and as I close my eyes all I can feel is the stranger’s icy cold hand in mine.
But we aren’t really falling, or we never hit the ground.
Maybe I’m dying.
When I open my eyes again I am in a dark forest.
A few feet ahead of me I can see the long haired stranger digging a hole
I know it’s stupid, but it’s all I manage.
This isn’t real.
It can’t be real.
Then things happen very quickly, the dark haired stranger cock his gun and blows Elliot’s brain’s all over my dress, and something cold and hard pierces my shoulder, knocking all the wind out of me.
Before I have time to realize what is happening or the watery rose that is forming on my shoulder, the stranger seizes fiercely my hand we’re rushing out the church, dodging bullets, broken benches and through doors that open and close magically as if obeying the stranger’s will.
Someone wake me up.
We run so fast everything becomes a swirl of colours.
It’s like we’re flying.
I can’t feel my feet running or my legs aching with the exercise but it’s getting harder and harder to breath, every breath a short and painful gasp. Yet it’s very uncanny because it feels like I’m falling asleep as we continue to run as fast as we can.
You can’t fall asleep if you’re already in a dream, right?
Something’s wet and warm is dripping from my arm.
My hand is slipping.
Maybe I’m waking up.
Everything’s becoming very quiet now, no more blurred screams, doors banging open or gunshots. I can’t even hear our footsteps. All I can hear is my short ragged breathing and my heart beating inside my chest painfully: Lub- dub, Lub-dub, Lub-dub, Lub-
silence.
It’s a strange feeling, like we are falling in this white silence or I missed a step at the top of the stairs. For a moment we are covered in this white numbness and all we can see as we fall in it is the thick, bloody strings coming out of my chest, shockingly red against all the white. But now even the red strings are blurry against this blinding white and as I close my eyes all I can feel is the stranger’s icy cold hand in mine.
But we aren’t really falling, or we never hit the ground.
Maybe I’m dying.
When I open my eyes again I am in a dark forest.
A few feet ahead of me I can see the long haired stranger digging a hole