Darby Rutledge III -- The Big Room
The room is big.
Very big.
Very big and very open. I stand against the wall, looking into the dark room. My eyes adjust to the room, yet I see nothing. I hear footsteps. My eyes dart around the pitch black room.
"Where are you?" a voice says. Who is that?
I hear footsteps again. They are closer. They are coming to me.
"Where are you?" a voice says again. The voice is timid. Small. The footsteps are big. The footsteps are closer still. The screaming is getting louder. Run faster. Something is yelling "run faster".
RUN FASTER
I opened my eyes and try to catch my breath. My elbows hit the mattress to prop myself up and my head whips around to see where I am. I'm in bed. My bed. The clock says 6:45am, and the light through the blinds is just enough to make out my room. Everything is normal.
"Oh crap," I whisper to myself, putting my hands on my head and laying back on my pillow. "What kind of dream was that?"
*************
I spend Friday like every Friday. I work (or worked, at the time) for 106.9 The Point, as an sales assistant. My day consisted of putting together sales proposals, running a few errands and paying a few bills and spending some time online.
I had planned to meet up with a friend of mine for dinner, so I headed over to O'Charleys to find Katy Scott already there. We had a quiet dinner, laughed about whatever we were talking about at the time, and finally, close to 9:30 or so, I headed for The Deuce.
Very big.
Very big and very open. I stand against the wall, looking into the dark room. My eyes adjust to the room, yet I see nothing. I hear footsteps. My eyes dart around the pitch black room.
"Where are you?" a voice says. Who is that?
I hear footsteps again. They are closer. They are coming to me.
"Where are you?" a voice says again. The voice is timid. Small. The footsteps are big. The footsteps are closer still. The screaming is getting louder. Run faster. Something is yelling "run faster".
RUN FASTER
I opened my eyes and try to catch my breath. My elbows hit the mattress to prop myself up and my head whips around to see where I am. I'm in bed. My bed. The clock says 6:45am, and the light through the blinds is just enough to make out my room. Everything is normal.
"Oh crap," I whisper to myself, putting my hands on my head and laying back on my pillow. "What kind of dream was that?"
*************
I spend Friday like every Friday. I work (or worked, at the time) for 106.9 The Point, as an sales assistant. My day consisted of putting together sales proposals, running a few errands and paying a few bills and spending some time online.
I had planned to meet up with a friend of mine for dinner, so I headed over to O'Charleys to find Katy Scott already there. We had a quiet dinner, laughed about whatever we were talking about at the time, and finally, close to 9:30 or so, I headed for The Deuce.