Imperfect Imortality

The ground stretched out far in front of me as I ran, my legs pounded at the floor as my feet fell heavy and hard. I had no idea why I was running, but I could tell it wasn’t for any good reason. I glanced towards the sky in a state of panic, the sky was a blood red crimson and the clouds were a deep soot black; if I had been in the mood I would have laughed at how horribly cliché it was. But still I ran, I looked back down to the path in front of me- as I dared not look behind, and I saw nothing, nothing but black empty space and the dying grass beneath my feat. Truthfully I was scared.

My chest was aching something terrible and my legs were screaming in pain, but I couldn’t stop…. or it would get me…He would get me…

And then I could see something, a far speck on the horizon of this wasteland, and it was the only hope of refuge I had. So I headed towards it, as if I wasn’t anyway. As I neared it the object it began to gain shape and height. I finally stopped and with a glimpse of horror I realised where I was, I was in the park. Well not really the park, just by our tree, but it no longer looked friendly, it looked ugly and terrifying, and suddenly I felt 11 years old again. Weak and fragile. My chest burned from all the running and I fell to my knees, my body shaking violently from so much stress. Tears poured from my eyes as I wept in fear and in pain. But still I didn’t know why I was afraid.

The air grew cold around me and I glanced up, panting. The tree had begun to move in the non-existent wind; I frowned, confused by this odd movement then suddenly the ground began to shake under me. I reared backward in fear, panic already consuming my mind. Two thick, what appeared to be ropes shot from the ground and flew towards me. I tried to scream but nothing came. The chords wrapped themselves tightly round my wrists, pinning me to the spot. I thrashed hopelessly around trying to free myself, but all they did was tighten. I cried, I cried out for mum, I cried out for my friends and I cried out for Mikey. An awfully to familiar voice crept into the back of my mind,
“Oh so you like him now? That’s not how it appeared earlier…”

I froze, fear catching in my throat as I finally made the connection… that voice…I looked up towards the tangled branches of the tree and my fears were realised. He glared back down at me blankly, his eyes soulless and empty. No part of him looked mocking at all, but still was he not the one who had said those horrid things?
“Gerard…”My voice came out as little more than a whisper, and it hurt so badly. His eyes focused on me for a second before fading out again. He looked just as I remembered him, but he lacked his main feature, the smile; and that’s what scared me the most…

As if he had read my mind a smile spread across his face, but it unnerved me even more. It was an unnaturally awkward smile, it was almost mocking and yet I couldn’t look away. To see him again felt almost good but it was in such a horrid situation. I pulled at my restraints again, only causing them to tighten again; I winced with pain, my hands becoming numb. My eyes fell to the floor again, and I examined the chords in better detail, I then realised that they were not ropes, but roots. I heard hollow laughter echo from above me and it chilled me to my core. I kept my eyes firmly locked onto the ground, not wanting to see him mocking me again.
“I would say it’s good to see you again Frankie, but I’d be lying…” I still dared not to look up as he landed on the ground in front of me, making barely any sound,
“After all you never really cared about me did you? You were glad when I died.” I snapped my head up and stared at him furiously, how could he say such things?
“What do you mean?! I was so sad the day you-“ I froze in mid sentence and noticed he was grinning, his hazel eyes sparkling with sheer delight; he had merely wanted me to argue back, he’d only said those things to provoke me.

“You’re supposed to be dead…” I hissed through gritted teeth. His eyes narrowed on me and he bent down to my eye level. He placed a hand on the side of my face grabbing it hard and digging his nails in, drawing blood. His hands were like ice to touch, but yet they burned my skin and I cried out in agony. He laughed.
“Oh is that so?” his grin never faded and his mocking laughter rang in my ears, “You see Frankie, what’s going on now is nothing but a dream, you’re clever enough to know that aren’t you?” I held my tongue, holding back the urge to lash out at him.
“If this is a dream, then you’re nothing more than a piece of my imagination, and nothing you do or say means anything. So why am I listening to you?” His gaze flickered to the floor, he sighed and then stood up shaking his head slowly.
“You’ll learn in time Iero, you’ll learn in time…” and with that he Kicked me hard in the stomach, I choked breathing in large quantities of air. He kicked again and again, causing my insides to scream. Grabbing me by the edge of my shirt he held me close to his face, I grimaced,
“Nothing, but, a, dream” I panted in between my laboured gasps. His smile turned to an angered frown,
“I am now…. But for how long?” And with that I noticed that his body had begun to fade. His eyes sparkled as his body faded completely, his last words echoed in my mind as I fell to the floor, crumpling in a heap.

I awoke to the sound of my mum knocking loudly at my bedroom door.
“Frank, wake up dear its gone one o’clock and your grandma will be here soon.” I sat up slowly grasping my head, it was pounding and I was covered in sweat, I don’t think I’d ever had such a terrible dream. My bed covers were a tangled mess and as I wiped my face I could feel wet tear tracks marking it. I walked slowly toward the bathroom, went in and locked the door. I just needed something to freshen me up. I headed for the sink, bent down while turning the cold tap on and splashed myself with water. It felt so nice and calming. I walked back out of the bathroom and bumped into my mum,
“Oh sorry dear I wasn’t looking where I was-“ as she looked up she froze in mid sentence, “My god frank what has happened to your face?!” I looked at her puzzled by her expression.
“What do you mean?” I turned and walked back into the bathroom, closing the door behind me.

I flipped back the folding mirror, and peered at myself in the reflection and suddenly I felt sick. Mum began to hammer at the door,
“Frank? Frank are you okay in there?” I took in deep breaths trying to calm my nausea, but it wouldn’t go. There were five deep gashes in my cheek, still wet with blood; and as last nights dream returned to me I shot a glance down at my wrists, my sense of panic deepened. I was faced with large gashes and bruises that travelled all the way round both wrists; fear washed over me. I glanced back up at the mirror and screamed jumping backwards. Thick black writing was carved into the mirrors surface,

”Not so much of a dream anymore is it?”

With that nausea overwhelmed me, I turned round leaned over the toilet and threw up. But the fear still remained…