Falling nightmares

It was night and darker than ever before, only the shadows visible, from the light of the small stars that lit the sky. The shadows of still trees, of dirty and old stones that were sticking out of the ground, shadows of angel statues were visible, it was a graveyard.

It was all silent until "Come here my child" said a man breaking the silence. He looked no older than 30 years old. "Don't worry, I won't hurt you" In one hand he was cradling a baby who was only a couple of weeks old, and in the other he was holding a milk bottle, trying to force it down the babies fragile throat. Only what was inside the milk bottle didn't look anything like milk, it looked like...blood.

I woke up finding myself screaming. Stop, I commanded myself but it seemed like I had no control over my screams. Quickly before anyone woke up to my screams I put my hand in my mouth and bit on it until I could taste my own blood. Once I had taken control over myself I took a look over to my bedside table where my digital clock stood rightfully near my sleeping pills. It said it was 3 'o' clock in the morning. It's was just a nightmare, I said to myself, just a nightmare, nothing more.

This had been my nightly routine for the past two weeks. Over the past two weeks I had been having the weirdest dreams – well okay not weird but crazy, I had been dreaming about the same guy for two weeks, - and here's the crazy part - a guy who I had never seen before in my life. It was more like a vision than a dream. In a dream it’s all blurry and not straightforward, plus once you wake up most the time you struggle to remember it fully. But these dreams I had been getting lately were just not normal, it was like I was recalling a memory of my own, except it was not mine.

At first I was afraid of going to sleep, scared of what I might dream of, what I may figure out about the mysterious boy who roamed around my dreams. That was why my parents started giving me sleeping pills which obviously didn't work on me. I wanted to tell someone, to tell my friend, my parents, my annoying 13 year old sister, but whenever I was about to confront one of them my mind would go blank. What was I supposed to say anyway? “Oh by the way, mum and dad I have been having weird dreams for a couple of weeks about a boy I have never seen before my life, and that is why I have been having the shittiest sleep lately. Why haven’t I told you before, because you may think I was either going crazy or making it up to make my boring life more interesting”. Like that was going to happen. Plus they may actually have believed the last part about how I was making it up to make my life more interesting.

Of course my parents were already suspicious that something was wrong with me. Ever since the first dream I had, I would wake up screaming my head off. It was just that the visuals were so clear and so gory.

My parents thought I was on a special kind of drug that made me go half crazy at the middle of the night. I caught them talking about it one night. I woke up from the same kind of nightmare and my parents apparently woke up as well from my screaming, and went downstairs to the living room to 'discuss' about what was wrong with me, while I was in the kitchen (which was just behind the living room and separated by a small wall which I was hiding behind, so I could hear them very well.) getting myself a glass of water.

“Ciara wake up.” my sister, Danielle, shouted in that annoying tone that could really get on my nerves, especially in the morning, especially when it is the first day back to school, and especially when I had been getting these crazy nightmares lately that no one else knew about.

Once she realized that I was not going to get up any time soon she started shaking me and I felt like I was stuck in a mini tornado.

“Ciara wake up.” She repeated in that same tone.

She was like my personal, annoying alarm clock except with normal alarm clocks, if you wanted to shut them up all you had to do was take out the batteries, But with her, she would only stop if you actually got up. But she wasn't going to win.

“Get off me you idiot!” I replied to Danielle's screams, I was surprised to find my voice so weak and exhausted.

“Wake up.” was all she said still shaking me. “You have to walk with me to school”

Confusion had swept through my mind. Mum had always dropped Danielle in her car to primary school and always picked her up the same way, while I had to walk to high school every day. With heavy eyelids I opened my eyes to find my sister dressed in a white blouse and navy blue skirt, hair tied high up in a pony-tale letting her beautiful, shiny, straight, long perfectly brunette hair fall to her shoulders. I always wished I had the kind of hair she had. Instead I was stuck with my hair; shoulder length, dark brown, frizzy and when I had my good hair days, wavy. I had tried straightening my hair with probably every single straightener available in Australia, but none of them worked on my fuzzy hair. What I envied most was that her hair could never get tangled, how did she managed that?

Enough, I told myself. I always got distracted when it came to my hair and the type of hair I wanted, but back to the topic of why my sister was dressed up in my uniform and not hers. Just then I remembered. It was the first day of high school for her; she was in grade 8 now. Bummer. Not only did I have to see her everyday at home but I had to spend 6 more hours a day with her. Life couldn’t get crueller.

I sat up leaning on my elbows and looked at my alarm clock. It said the time was 9:00 A.M. Shit! School started in 20 minutes and I hadn’t even gotten out of bed yet.

“Get out of my way.” I said in a tone that was mean to my own ears but I didn't turn to look behind to see if she was offended. I quickly walked to my bathroom and slammed the door shut, making a big BANG sound.

My stomach rumbled. I tried to ignore it and the pain coming along with it. I just remembered that I had no dinner the night before either and it would be too late for me to ask mum for any money for the canteen, so I wouldn’t be able to have proper lunch either. My stomach rumbled again “Shut up” I said this time instead of ignoring the angry rumble. It continued and I sighed, not even my own stomach listens to me.