just a peek
at what I've been writing:
That night, Vic dreamed. Usually, when she remembered them, her dreams were the standard dreams. She’d dream that she showed up for work without her costumes, or her feet would glue themselves to the floor. Every so often she’d have pleasant dreams involving characters from the books she read, but mainly she didn’t remember dreaming all that often. That night, however, she dreamed vividly.
She was walking down a dark street, in full costume, the beads and coins from her bra and belt chiming quietly, and her skirts swishing around her ankles. Her dark hair swirled around her, unbound. The air felt musky and wild somehow, like the air in a forest that hadn’t seen humans in ages, if ever. Vic tried to look around, but couldn’t see much of anything at all. Everything was misty and preternaturally still.
A crack split the air and she wheeled in fright, staring intently into the misty street to try to find the cause of the noise. It had sounded frighteningly like a bone breaking. Nothing was behind her.
She turned again to face the way she had originally been heading, and started to run. She knew that the something was out there; knew that it wanted her for some reason; and she knew that there was no way that she could escape it. She ran, tripping over her skirts, her costuming flying wildly as she sped towards nothing. Her breath was harsh and wild in her lungs, and she couldn’t get enough oxygen. Her stamina started to wane, and she knew that it had come to an end, but still pushed herself further and further, not wanting to admit the futility of running towards nothing from something that wanted her so badly.
After what seemed like millennia, she saw an alleyway. She ran down it, hoping to find something to hide behind until she caught her breath. It was empty. Clear, smooth walls ran back on either side to a third solid wall in the back of the alley. There were no doors, no dumpsters, no piles of crates or pallets, no fire escapes. Just the walls surrounding her. Her ragged breath came in sobbing gasps as she plummeted full speed into the back wall, praying that her eyes might be deceiving her; that the wall was a hallucination and that she could continue to run away from it.
The wall didn’t give way. It stayed where it was, solid, the way that walls should be. She pressed her sweat-damp forehead against the bricks. They felt hot and savage against her skin. Clenching her fists, her teeth bared in anger and fear, she turned to face whatever had chased her here.
Dark eyes looked at her from the mist. Dark, hazel eyes that had the underlying feel of dim, green hued forests.
Vic lurched awake, a shriek catching in her throat before it could escape. Her sheets were tangled around her legs, and the rest of her covers had been thrown completely off the bed. Her breath still caught in her chest in ragged gasps, but she slowly started to control her breathing as she became more and more aware of her surroundings. Yes, this was her bed. Her room. Her wild eyes started to recognize more of the things that made this her home. She labeled things to herself, rambling in her mind as she catalogued the things that made her feel more real, and less like the dream self; her four poster bed that she had spent far too much on almost ten years ago, and that she still loved; the sari fabrics that she had draped around the posts and across the headboard; the pictures of friends and family that dotted the walls. Her breathing came easier now.
Sliding her feet from the knot of sheets and straightening the sweats and tank top that she had worn to bed, she turned to put her feet on the hardwood floor, relishing the cool comfort of the soft wood. She got up haltingly, feeling as if she hadn’t moved for ages, and went into her bathroom to get a drink of water. It took her a moment to debate with herself whether or not to turn the lights on, but in the end she decided that she didn’t want to readjust her eyes to the bright fluorescent lights in her bathroom, and just went by the small nightlight that she always kept on next to the sink. It turned the night a delicate blue shade, and calmed her even more as she filled the cup next to her toothbrush and drank deeply.
As she lowered her head, she caught her own reflection in the mirror, ghostly and soft in the blue light, and stared into her own eyes. The green was noticeable even in this compromised lighting. Her eyes seemed almost alien to her. They were still filled with fear, even though her heart had stopped racing. She looked closer, remembering the deep forest green eyes that had stared back at her.
The eyes hadn’t been what frightened her. There was something else. When she thought about the eyes, she felt peace, safety. Something had been behind the eyes. Something horrific. Vic stared harder into her own gaze, trying to see what the hazel eyes had shielded her from. She stayed motionless for a moment, then blinked heavily and shook her head.
“It was only a dream, Vic,” she told herself aloud. “The guy with the eyes, and a scary alleyway, and a really, really late dinner. That’s all this was.”
She rinsed the cup out and put it back, then padded quietly back to her room and straightened her bed out a bit before climbing back in, making sure that her shoulders were covered. Ever since she was a child, after a scary dream she had to have her shoulders covered to start feeling safe again. Even though her sweats were thick and the night was warm, this was definitely a night to pull the covers all the way up to her neck.
She fell back to sleep slowly, the vision of forest eyes watching over her comforting her enough to drift off into unconsciousness.
That night, Vic dreamed. Usually, when she remembered them, her dreams were the standard dreams. She’d dream that she showed up for work without her costumes, or her feet would glue themselves to the floor. Every so often she’d have pleasant dreams involving characters from the books she read, but mainly she didn’t remember dreaming all that often. That night, however, she dreamed vividly.
She was walking down a dark street, in full costume, the beads and coins from her bra and belt chiming quietly, and her skirts swishing around her ankles. Her dark hair swirled around her, unbound. The air felt musky and wild somehow, like the air in a forest that hadn’t seen humans in ages, if ever. Vic tried to look around, but couldn’t see much of anything at all. Everything was misty and preternaturally still.
A crack split the air and she wheeled in fright, staring intently into the misty street to try to find the cause of the noise. It had sounded frighteningly like a bone breaking. Nothing was behind her.
She turned again to face the way she had originally been heading, and started to run. She knew that the something was out there; knew that it wanted her for some reason; and she knew that there was no way that she could escape it. She ran, tripping over her skirts, her costuming flying wildly as she sped towards nothing. Her breath was harsh and wild in her lungs, and she couldn’t get enough oxygen. Her stamina started to wane, and she knew that it had come to an end, but still pushed herself further and further, not wanting to admit the futility of running towards nothing from something that wanted her so badly.
After what seemed like millennia, she saw an alleyway. She ran down it, hoping to find something to hide behind until she caught her breath. It was empty. Clear, smooth walls ran back on either side to a third solid wall in the back of the alley. There were no doors, no dumpsters, no piles of crates or pallets, no fire escapes. Just the walls surrounding her. Her ragged breath came in sobbing gasps as she plummeted full speed into the back wall, praying that her eyes might be deceiving her; that the wall was a hallucination and that she could continue to run away from it.
The wall didn’t give way. It stayed where it was, solid, the way that walls should be. She pressed her sweat-damp forehead against the bricks. They felt hot and savage against her skin. Clenching her fists, her teeth bared in anger and fear, she turned to face whatever had chased her here.
Dark eyes looked at her from the mist. Dark, hazel eyes that had the underlying feel of dim, green hued forests.
Vic lurched awake, a shriek catching in her throat before it could escape. Her sheets were tangled around her legs, and the rest of her covers had been thrown completely off the bed. Her breath still caught in her chest in ragged gasps, but she slowly started to control her breathing as she became more and more aware of her surroundings. Yes, this was her bed. Her room. Her wild eyes started to recognize more of the things that made this her home. She labeled things to herself, rambling in her mind as she catalogued the things that made her feel more real, and less like the dream self; her four poster bed that she had spent far too much on almost ten years ago, and that she still loved; the sari fabrics that she had draped around the posts and across the headboard; the pictures of friends and family that dotted the walls. Her breathing came easier now.
Sliding her feet from the knot of sheets and straightening the sweats and tank top that she had worn to bed, she turned to put her feet on the hardwood floor, relishing the cool comfort of the soft wood. She got up haltingly, feeling as if she hadn’t moved for ages, and went into her bathroom to get a drink of water. It took her a moment to debate with herself whether or not to turn the lights on, but in the end she decided that she didn’t want to readjust her eyes to the bright fluorescent lights in her bathroom, and just went by the small nightlight that she always kept on next to the sink. It turned the night a delicate blue shade, and calmed her even more as she filled the cup next to her toothbrush and drank deeply.
As she lowered her head, she caught her own reflection in the mirror, ghostly and soft in the blue light, and stared into her own eyes. The green was noticeable even in this compromised lighting. Her eyes seemed almost alien to her. They were still filled with fear, even though her heart had stopped racing. She looked closer, remembering the deep forest green eyes that had stared back at her.
The eyes hadn’t been what frightened her. There was something else. When she thought about the eyes, she felt peace, safety. Something had been behind the eyes. Something horrific. Vic stared harder into her own gaze, trying to see what the hazel eyes had shielded her from. She stayed motionless for a moment, then blinked heavily and shook her head.
“It was only a dream, Vic,” she told herself aloud. “The guy with the eyes, and a scary alleyway, and a really, really late dinner. That’s all this was.”
She rinsed the cup out and put it back, then padded quietly back to her room and straightened her bed out a bit before climbing back in, making sure that her shoulders were covered. Ever since she was a child, after a scary dream she had to have her shoulders covered to start feeling safe again. Even though her sweats were thick and the night was warm, this was definitely a night to pull the covers all the way up to her neck.
She fell back to sleep slowly, the vision of forest eyes watching over her comforting her enough to drift off into unconsciousness.