Dreamscape

Short Story written by J.A.R

The young child rubbed their eyes, squinting at the image that appeared out the window. Kicking their covers away from them, they quickly hopped out of bed and scurried towards the opening. The window was lifted open slightly, allowing the room to ventilate to receive some cool air. They stood on their tippy-toes, leaning forward to get a glimpse of what was out there. Their eyes glanced over the backyard, the empty field of space coated in the planted grass. Rather painted in the color black as it reflected the gloomy shaded sky. It was quite difficult to make out the silhouette that stood out in the middle, but the child was able to see perfectly fine. The figure was still, like that of a mannequin almost. The child tried to think who the dark statue was, imagining what it could be.

As they tapped their hand against the windowsill, a blink of realization fell upon them. It was so quiet in here, just the sound of a hand tapping once bounced off the walls. The child turned around for a moment, their attention brought to their bedroom door. Standing still like the figure outside, they waited for a moment. Nothing else could be heard, which made the kid close their eyes and sigh quietly in relief. Facing the window again, the young one tilted their head in confusion.

The figure… it was gone.

Perhaps, it was just their mind playing tricks on them. The child placed their feet down, going back to their original height. For a split second, their eyes continued to look outside, as if waiting for something to return. It wasn’t for long though as a sudden breeze pushed through the gap of the window. The child hugged their sides, shivering where they stood. Reaching up, they pulled the curtains together to block out anymore air that would seep through. They brought their hands back down to their sides and went to climb back into bed, until they stopped. Their feet, unable to move like there was glue underneath. The only motion that could be made was a turn of the head.

There was another sound.

A tap… that resembled a similar echo the child made before.

Except, no one was there. The child stared at the windowsill until their eyes moved up toward the curtains. At that moment, the same sound went off again, but this time it lingered in the room a bit longer than before. Though their knees felt like buckling and their legs began to form into noodles, the curious child gathered the strength to lift their feet. With their whole body facing the window, they took slow steps forward. Despite the sudden shaky hands, they reached up and grabbed the ends of the curtains.

They waited- both out of fear and interest. The room fell silent again.

One of the child’s hands began to slip down, fingers barely touching the fabric of the curtain as the other kept holding on. Their body shivered again, but it was not due to the coldness. Efforts in spite of the hesitation provided a push, like a flip of the throttle. With both hands back on the curtains, the child swiftly pulled them apart.

What came into view caused their eyes to open wide. 

A figure appeared in the darkness: in the gleam of the moonlight, it was clear that it was holding a knife. -

Sitting up a hurry, a person was breathing heavily- eyes as wide as the ocean seas. Except the depth brought the pattern of their breath to become slightly unstable. Both hands were out in front of them, clenched as if they were gripping something. Allowing them to open up, they placed them over their head and then ran down to their neck.

As the pressure of their heart began to revert back to its steady beat, the person looked down to see an arm drape over them.

“Are you okay?” A question was asked.

“Yeah… just a bad dream. Sorry if I woke you up.”

“It’s all right. Remember, they’re just dreams. They are not real at all.”

The person took their hands away from their neck and looked at the palms for a moment.

“You’re probably right.”