I’m Not The Protagonist In My Own Dreams

It’s the same every night.

Waking on the field. The perfect blue sky above me, the lush green grass beneath my hands as I clutch to feel it’s non existence.

Slowly sitting up right. It’s now just a ritual, as I gaze across the world before me. The mountain ranges across the skyline, snow capped and standing perfectly strong as if it’s never seen a storm. The forest just before it, spreading nature throughout.

But before that, I had the field of dreams to traverse through.

It took what felt like forever but I never got tired. I never felt anything here expect the constant pick of fear and loathing for something or someone.

Reaching the forest edge. My nerves twitched. I always remembered everything from awaking in the field to the edge, but after that, nothing. What was it, why couldn’t I scratch the surface of my mind.

As I entered, a few steps inwards, the sound of branches beneath feet, but they’re not my feet. That’s when I noticed the person in the distance, standing beside a tree, a great growing elk. It’s branches covering the sky which was now wishing different colours from reds, oranges and faint blue now.

The figure stepped forward as I froze in place, but their face was blurred with a faint whispering coming from their lips.

“Get out”

A tremble in the ground, not big but enough to feel it. A gust of wind coming also through the leaves. The branches shaking side by side.

The figure stepped forward. The trembling growing and the branches shaking harder. The whisper again.

“Get out”

The face, I recognised it. A memory I tried to suppress but it keeps escaping.

“Get out”

Again, the whispering becoming louder. The blur vanished as a woman came forward. The face flashed again and the memory crashed n front of me.

Flooded in as the blond hair, shoulder length. The black dress she wore as it swayed in the strong wind now.

She shouted this time, “get out”.

I recognised her. The protagonist of my own dreams, I’m just a side character here. I don’t mean anything, I’m just here to learn from mistakes. It’s all clicked into place. Was this revenge.

She takes another step forward and that causes the ground to tremble more, shaking ferociously and cracking from her foot.

Cracking in the forest and crashing as the ground beneath me collapsed and I fell. Emptiness and black, falling forever. It never ended.

Then I landed on an open stretch of road as the swallowing ended. But that’s when I saw it two cars coming in opposite directions, the woman driving one and as I turned to see the other, driven by me.

That’s when I had to witness the replay of the horror as I drove into the woman in the black dress. However, I was stood in the middle of the crash as both cars collided because of my mistake.

It’s the same every night.

Waking on the field. The perfect blue sky above me, the lush green grass beneath my hands as I clutch to feel it’s non existence.

3 thoughts on “I’m Not The Protagonist In My Own Dreams

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