I Dream of Water

I was sitting on the beach, my sunglasses rested on my face, shielding me from the glares of the harsh sun. I took a glance around the beach for the first time since I’d fallen asleep. I was alone.

I let out a content sigh, enjoying the peacefulness of the gently blowing wind and the swaying of the trees behind me. I sat there for quite some time before I realized something was off. Pulling off my thick sunglasses I was startled.

The sky that had been a light shade of dazzling blue was now almost black. I could see the stars twinkling in the nighttime sky. I hadn't thought I’d been asleep that long.. I hadn't thought I’d been asleep at all.

I was startled by a loud scream, frantically looking around to see where it was coming from.

I let my eyes wander across the water, finding something that definitely hadn't been there before. Across the water was a beach, exactly identical to the one I was on, except for a ginger haired boy was lying in the sand.

His screams consumed my ear drums, and in that moment all I felt was terror. Soon our eyes locked, he was pleading. Pleading for me to help him. His screams consumed the nighttime air, I wanted to help him but he was all the way across the water. I saw blood dripping down the side of his neck.

Just as I was about to jump into the water, the beach the boy was on began to fade, his eyes became distorted, and pretty soon all I could see was the water and the twinkle of the stars reflecting down to where the boy once stood.

Then it hit me. I’m dreaming.

--

I woke up suddenly, the dream I’d just had fresh in my mind. I couldn't help but be a bit startled as to what I’d seen.

I always seemed to have a certain connection with dreams. I believed everything you dreamed had some sort of connection with the future, showing you a glimpse of something you could have if only you just reached out to grab it. Most people in the world dismissed their dreams without a glance, but in my opinion, they were missing out on so much they hadn't yet discovered about themselves.

I held out my hand to grab my trusty journal, reaching into the dark cave under my bed. I felt the familiar binding of my old leather bound diary, carefully resting it on top of my bed as I went to look for a pencil.

After every dream I had, I would always record it as soon as possible, I didn't want to forget any of it. It was as if I was recording my future, almost like the disciples writing the book of god. But of course, I wasn't god, and I wasn't writing a revolutionary book. My recordings were for my eyes, and my eyes only.

I began to describe the strange red haired boy, making him come to life between the dusty pages of my journal. It all seemed more real this way. I remembered the tortured look in his eyes, haunting me to save him from whatever hell he’d been bound to. I wondered what he had to do with me. Was I supposed to save him?

His voice rang through my ears, his pleas of help had become incinerated into my mind. I couldn't keep my mind off this mysterious figure on the other side of the beach.

I figured it was best not to dwell too much on the dream, so I sealed it in between my pages, maybe one day I’d finally crack the code and figure out what it was.

But for now, I’d get dressed and continue on with my life.