a dream

A dream. You are being followed. A voice, singsong, trails eagerly behind you. She says to wait up, don’t leave her behind. You can’t let her be late to her own dance with you. Your pace quickens. As does the voice’s. No, it says, I said wait up! You can’t let it get close.

A dream. Just like before. The source of this singsong voice finally appears. A young woman, dressed in a garish collection of colors. Two-tone hair, painted nails, leggings, and soulless, dead eyes. She reaches towards you, but cannot touch you. You won’t let her. You stay just out of her reach, shrouded by the cover of darkness. Her hands grasp and claw, desperately seeking you. You can’t run forever! You’re mine! You always have been!

A dream. It’s starting to feel real. Her pursuit has become, as predicted by her, a dance. A small, metallic object gleams in her hand as it comes rushing towards you. You evade it, as you have been forever. If it touches you, it will draw blood. And it will never stop flowing. You cannot escape her.

A dream. Details grow more vivid. She has touched you – her hand chills you to the bone. The knife in her hand has drawn your blood. You reach for it, to disarm her. A scuffle ensues, as the cold slowly begins seeping into your veins.

A dream. The beginning of the end. She isn’t a person anymore. She is a monster. A monster, now bleeding along with you. The knife makes nary a sound as it falls from your hand into the dirt.

A dream. Same as all the others. No two alike. Pain comes to the forefront. Blood drips from your fingertips. A horrific, diminutive figure stands before you, mutilated, gasping for air. She doesn’t beg for her life. She doesn’t fight back. She drinks in the sight of you, as innocent as a schoolchild’s crush. Through a thin veil of death, all she sees is you – as you slowly dismantle her.