Wednesday, September 14, 2016

It's a dream...

I'm at a party with a childhood friend. The people there are not my friends and I don't really fit in there. I don't remember how I came to be there, and I start to feel a panic in the back of my mind. My friend and I leave, and as soon as we step outside the door we are in a crowded hallway; it's filled with jostling, drunken bodies, pushing us this way and that. Everyone is moving in different directions, causing chaos and confusion. Nobody is in a hurry, but there's an urgency that nags at my mind.

Almost immediately, I lose sight of my friend as she forces her way through the crowd. I try to call after her, but my voice is lost in the din around me. People push her along, moving her through the crowd; but me... they hold me back, stepping in front of me, blocking my way, as though they want to separate us. The panic is back in my mind, making me sweat.

The next moment I'm in an abandoned building. There's something going on - movement around corners and down hallways that I can't quite see: pounding sounds above me; someone giggles in a hidden room, and I hear the sounds of paper being fed into a shredder. Clothing rustles, something shatters, and a door slams. The sounds are secretive. We aren't supposed to be here, any of us.

I creep my way down hallways cluttered with debris until I come to an entirely open floor. There are no doorways or rooms on this floor; the space holds no desks, no evidence that anything is accomplished here. There are windows along one wall - they have no glass, only window shapes cut into the wall. They look down onto a rocky beach. High cliffs on one side block any view. And straight down, through the window-holes, I see sharp rocks jutting up out of the water.

My friend is there, standing at one of the windows. She's going to jump. I distract her, asking what happened to her after the party. She tells me she got high at the party. When I wasn't looking, someone else there gave her cocaine, and she took it. She avoided me after, because she knew I would be upset. I am angry; she's not supposed to do drugs and had promised me that she wouldn't. It brings up the panic and old, hurt feelings.

I start to turn away- I want to leave this place too. It's as bad as the party. My friend jumped then, holding onto my hand. I am terrified; I don't want to go down to the rocks, down where I know we won't come back up.

We landed on the couch at the party. My friend was grinning, bent over a mirror.

I wake up with a greasy feeling in my brain that I haven't had in a long time, and I'm grateful for demons I no longer have.

1 comment:

sam hooper said...

Fantastic! Love it. Your writing is the best. Preaent tense is my favorite. Most of my stories are written that way.

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