Nightmare
one
A cricket’s chirping harmony intermingled with the crackle of the fire. It was dark, with nothing but the light of the fire to illuminate the small clearing I was currently sitting in. The glowing embers threw shadows across the trees, bringing them to life. I fancied the shadows were small fairy people dancing through the forest, always remaining just out of sight.
“There’s a story about these woods, you know. They say that a young girl killed herself in this very clearing. Hung from that tree over there.”
And just like that I was yanked from my pleasant daydreams. I allowed my gaze to follow Matt’s finger to a gnarled tree at the edge of the clearing. My imagination begged to take over again, flashing images of a young girl dangling from her neck, a few feet from the ground.
“Stop it Matt, we are so not doing the whole spooky campfire ghost story thing tonight,” I said.
I was out here to have a good time, not piss my pants.
“Aw come on, don’t be such a pansy!” but he didn’t push the subject.
He reached across me to snag another beer from the cooler. Unfortunately for him, he misjudged the distance, leaned slightly to far in his lawn chair, and went crashing to the ground. Toby and I were in hysterics.
“Smooth move, man.” Toby said.
I grabbed three beers, handing one to Toby and then Matt. The last thing I needed was those two dumbasses seriously hurting themselves. We all cracked them open and held them up.
“Cheers fellas.”
We chugged. This was how tonight was supposed to go. No creepy ghost stories, just the three of us drinking ourselves into oblivion in the middle of the woods.
By the fifth beer I was feeling quite relaxed. The image of the dead girl no longer haunted my mind. I amused myself by watching the dancing fairy people again. They were quite entertaining, flitting through the trees. The orange glow of the campfire disappeared, plunging our campsite into darkness. The fairies went into hiding. Even the faint glow of the moon vanished. I couldn’t see my hand in front of my face. Panic took over, and then there was nothing.
A vision of a small, barely furnished room filled my mind. There were holes in the walls, and peeling paint everywhere. A thin layer of dirt covered the floor. Talk about unsanitary. There was a man with a bottle. He looked angry. He was advancing towards me, red-faced and screaming. His words were beyond slurred. I felt a twinge of fear and then the image faded, replaced by a new horror.
Now I was staring into a pair of cold, lifeless eyes. They were blue, and set in a pale face. The woman’s red hair splayed across the floor – a striking contrast to the tile. I knew this person. This couldn’t be real; Toby’s mother couldn’t be dead. Tears pooled in my eyes. The image changed again.
This one was the worst of all. I was pinned underneath a strong body, back pressing into the hard ground. Rough hands were grabbing me. Recognition hit; I knew this scene. More accurately, I knew this memory and I did not want to relive it any time soon. I screamed, or at least, I think I screamed. Everything went black.
I was siting in front of the campfire again. The fairy people were back, dancing among the trees. Toby and Matt were still sitting around me, their faces reflecting the horror I felt. Had that really just happened? Their pale faces made it seem like it did. A warm fuzziness filled my belly, reminding me that I was drunk. My inebriated mind was just playing tricks on me.
“I’m just drunk,” I assured myself, “just drunk.”
Satisfied with my conclusion, I grabbed another beer and continued with the party. There was no need to dwell on some creepy mind trick when there was still plenty of good beer to drink. And just like that the bad stuff disappeared.
“There’s a story about these woods, you know. They say that a young girl killed herself in this very clearing. Hung from that tree over there.”
And just like that I was yanked from my pleasant daydreams. I allowed my gaze to follow Matt’s finger to a gnarled tree at the edge of the clearing. My imagination begged to take over again, flashing images of a young girl dangling from her neck, a few feet from the ground.
“Stop it Matt, we are so not doing the whole spooky campfire ghost story thing tonight,” I said.
I was out here to have a good time, not piss my pants.
“Aw come on, don’t be such a pansy!” but he didn’t push the subject.
He reached across me to snag another beer from the cooler. Unfortunately for him, he misjudged the distance, leaned slightly to far in his lawn chair, and went crashing to the ground. Toby and I were in hysterics.
“Smooth move, man.” Toby said.
I grabbed three beers, handing one to Toby and then Matt. The last thing I needed was those two dumbasses seriously hurting themselves. We all cracked them open and held them up.
“Cheers fellas.”
We chugged. This was how tonight was supposed to go. No creepy ghost stories, just the three of us drinking ourselves into oblivion in the middle of the woods.
By the fifth beer I was feeling quite relaxed. The image of the dead girl no longer haunted my mind. I amused myself by watching the dancing fairy people again. They were quite entertaining, flitting through the trees. The orange glow of the campfire disappeared, plunging our campsite into darkness. The fairies went into hiding. Even the faint glow of the moon vanished. I couldn’t see my hand in front of my face. Panic took over, and then there was nothing.
A vision of a small, barely furnished room filled my mind. There were holes in the walls, and peeling paint everywhere. A thin layer of dirt covered the floor. Talk about unsanitary. There was a man with a bottle. He looked angry. He was advancing towards me, red-faced and screaming. His words were beyond slurred. I felt a twinge of fear and then the image faded, replaced by a new horror.
Now I was staring into a pair of cold, lifeless eyes. They were blue, and set in a pale face. The woman’s red hair splayed across the floor – a striking contrast to the tile. I knew this person. This couldn’t be real; Toby’s mother couldn’t be dead. Tears pooled in my eyes. The image changed again.
This one was the worst of all. I was pinned underneath a strong body, back pressing into the hard ground. Rough hands were grabbing me. Recognition hit; I knew this scene. More accurately, I knew this memory and I did not want to relive it any time soon. I screamed, or at least, I think I screamed. Everything went black.
I was siting in front of the campfire again. The fairy people were back, dancing among the trees. Toby and Matt were still sitting around me, their faces reflecting the horror I felt. Had that really just happened? Their pale faces made it seem like it did. A warm fuzziness filled my belly, reminding me that I was drunk. My inebriated mind was just playing tricks on me.
“I’m just drunk,” I assured myself, “just drunk.”
Satisfied with my conclusion, I grabbed another beer and continued with the party. There was no need to dwell on some creepy mind trick when there was still plenty of good beer to drink. And just like that the bad stuff disappeared.