[original story] Lost in a Dream [Panther Press, NOV edition]
Title: Lost in a Dream
Author: rin_no_himitsu (me)
Rating: T
Genre: Psychological, Sci-fi, Tragedy
Summary: It's getting harder and harder to differentiate dreams from reality.
A/N: Ever since I read Vol. 13 of xxxHolic, I've been fascinated with the idea of being stuck in a dream. And with a quick decision to scrap my previous idea for PP's November issue, I wrote this. It's much shorter than my usual stories, and it might be a little confusing. It makes sense to me, but then again, I'm somewhat psychologically damaged. :'D
One day, when I have more time, I hope that I can turn this into a longer piece.
Anyways, please enjoy! :)
Lately, it’s been getting worse.
Ever since I was small, my dreams have been disturbingly similar to reality. The colours, smells, sounds, people-they were all exact replicas of their counterparts in real life.
At first, things were blurry. I couldn’t see people’s faces, and their voices were unclear. But now… Now everything is exactly the same. And it’s getting harder and harder to differentiate dreams from reality.
It’s terrifying.
I stepped off the bus. My eyes lingered on the large vehicle for a bit before I turned around and started on the fifteen-minute walk home from the bus stop.
I always tensed up when I walked through this area. Ever since I was a kid, I imagined the worst things happening here. I never liked being around the place. Walking faster, I gripped my bag tightly. The sooner I got home, the better.
Another strong breeze blew by, and I narrowed my eyes.
“Mmph!”
All of a sudden, I felt a sharp pang. I dropped to the ground, gasping for breath. Glancing around, I saw a bulky figure come closer. He held in his hand a silver blade. The moon shone behind him, and I saw him smile.
Then he plunged the knife into my throat.
---
My eyes flew open. I lay panting on my bed, body covered in sweat. For a few minutes, I just stared at the ceiling, waiting for my heart to stop pounding.
Thank God. It was only a dream.
I paused.
Was it?
If I was dead, I wouldn’t be thinking this right now.
I heard my mother call me down for breakfast, and glanced at the clock. I overslept.
Slipping on my clothes, I quickly got ready and ran downstairs.
---
In another world, a woman clung onto a man, sobbing into his shirt. He held her close, staring at their daughter lying on the hospital bed. The monitor next to her beeped slowly, steadily. A doctor entered the room.
“What are the chances of her waking up?”
The doctor hesitated before answering.
“They’re very slim, sir. She suffered a huge amount of blood loss and brain damage,” he paused. “If she did
wake up, it could be years, perhaps even decades from now.”
---
I ran into the kitchen, grabbing some toast and stuffing it into my mouth before dashing out the door. On the counter, the daily newspaper’s headlines read:
Girl’s body mutilated, now in coma.
Author: rin_no_himitsu (me)
Rating: T
Genre: Psychological, Sci-fi, Tragedy
Summary: It's getting harder and harder to differentiate dreams from reality.
A/N: Ever since I read Vol. 13 of xxxHolic, I've been fascinated with the idea of being stuck in a dream. And with a quick decision to scrap my previous idea for PP's November issue, I wrote this. It's much shorter than my usual stories, and it might be a little confusing. It makes sense to me, but then again, I'm somewhat psychologically damaged. :'D
One day, when I have more time, I hope that I can turn this into a longer piece.
Anyways, please enjoy! :)
Lately, it’s been getting worse.
Ever since I was small, my dreams have been disturbingly similar to reality. The colours, smells, sounds, people-they were all exact replicas of their counterparts in real life.
At first, things were blurry. I couldn’t see people’s faces, and their voices were unclear. But now… Now everything is exactly the same. And it’s getting harder and harder to differentiate dreams from reality.
It’s terrifying.
I stepped off the bus. My eyes lingered on the large vehicle for a bit before I turned around and started on the fifteen-minute walk home from the bus stop.
I always tensed up when I walked through this area. Ever since I was a kid, I imagined the worst things happening here. I never liked being around the place. Walking faster, I gripped my bag tightly. The sooner I got home, the better.
Another strong breeze blew by, and I narrowed my eyes.
“Mmph!”
All of a sudden, I felt a sharp pang. I dropped to the ground, gasping for breath. Glancing around, I saw a bulky figure come closer. He held in his hand a silver blade. The moon shone behind him, and I saw him smile.
Then he plunged the knife into my throat.
---
My eyes flew open. I lay panting on my bed, body covered in sweat. For a few minutes, I just stared at the ceiling, waiting for my heart to stop pounding.
Thank God. It was only a dream.
I paused.
Was it?
If I was dead, I wouldn’t be thinking this right now.
I heard my mother call me down for breakfast, and glanced at the clock. I overslept.
Slipping on my clothes, I quickly got ready and ran downstairs.
---
In another world, a woman clung onto a man, sobbing into his shirt. He held her close, staring at their daughter lying on the hospital bed. The monitor next to her beeped slowly, steadily. A doctor entered the room.
“What are the chances of her waking up?”
The doctor hesitated before answering.
“They’re very slim, sir. She suffered a huge amount of blood loss and brain damage,” he paused. “If she did
wake up, it could be years, perhaps even decades from now.”
---
I ran into the kitchen, grabbing some toast and stuffing it into my mouth before dashing out the door. On the counter, the daily newspaper’s headlines read:
Girl’s body mutilated, now in coma.