An Odd Occurrence

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
Once we finish our nightmares, we are relieved that it was only a dream. Many of us forget to realize, however, that our very own thoughts are what conjured up these twisted situations.

Submitted: May 08, 2015

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Submitted: May 08, 2015

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Through an odd turn of events I do not understand, I find myself with no history, no sense of the present, and no idea where I am heading. I know, I just simply know, that this is what I am supposed to be doing.

 

The only thing I hear is the faint, rather ominous tapping of my shoes on marble floor as I walk towards the large wooden door at the end of the hallway. No knowledge of what lies ahead, I feel the vibrations sending very distinct signals to keep walking from behind the door.

 

Had I been walking down this hallway which very closely resembled my elementary school for hours, minutes, or was I simply placed at my destination. With this rather frightening feeling without free will, I reached down to the doorknob. The suited woman with a warm face, teacher like hairdo, and glasses which magnified her all seeing eyes, looked at me like she knew I was coming. “Hello, Ryan” as she moved to the side, “Come in”.

 

I should have questioned what I was doing there. I should have asked how she knew my name. I should have done many things. With these thoughts running through my head, I could still not stop myself from welcoming everything that was going on around me with open arms, as if I was supposed to be acting as someone else. The odd thing is, even though I feared what may lie ahead, I felt my path had already been laid out for me.

 

I find myself in a room, a rather comforting room where wood clothed all the furniture and walls. There sitting, next to a lampshade on a large padded chair is a man. I knew this man, but did I really? Sporting a black suit, a red tie, freshly buffed shoes, and with a Marlboro Red clenched between his fingers, he uttered words I hoped he would not, “Hello, Ryan. Glad you’re back.” This is perhaps the most frightening aspect of my situation. Not only had he known my name, if this was even my name, but he insinuated that this was not our first time meeting. I stood in the center of the room, not breathing, not talking. Had I even blinked, or took a fresh breath of oxygen this whole time?

 

Why am I referring to these people simply as the man and the woman? They know my name, why don’t I? While I should have been thinking about this, I could not at the time.

 

I felt the soft hand which I assumed to be the woman again on my lower back. I take this opportunity to sit down, which I do not want to. It is as if my legs, eyes, and arms are being controlled by a higher power, without my own control. Sitting down in the chair, I watch as the woman sits in one next to the man.

 

With her elbows on her knees and her hands clasped together in a frustrated state, “Ryan, we have been at this for a time now. You don’t seem to be responding to the treatment.”

 

What was my treatment? What was I being treated for? Again, while I should have been asking these questions in, I could not.

 

“You just don’t seem to want to get better. But, we believe there is one more thing we can try, which may be your only hope. It is a method used by few in our profession known as Transcendental Hypnotherapy. Now, since you are here, we assume you would like to take part in this.”

 

Why had the man not said anything yet? Why was I being treated? There were many questions I should have asked in my head at the time, but I could not.

 

She proceeds to get up and unhook a hammock-looking sling from the roof, something I had not noticed before. “Please” as she gestures towards the sling. I walk over, without the will to stop myself, and lay down in the sling. She then slides one side of the sling towards the other, trapping me in a ball, rubbing my knees against my chest, tightly packed into this sling. “I am going to turn on the lights now and begin the treatment.” I look over to the man as he stamps out his cigarette and finally gets up, looking me straight in the eye as the lights go out. I am now in complete darkness.

 

Why must I be in this sling? Why was this the only form of treatment that would cure whatever was wrong with me? I should have asked these questions, but they could not even cross my mind at the time.

 

With my vision taken away from me, I began to see myself from an outside perspective. It felt as if a camera was placed inside the sling with my and I was visualizing through that. I felt the sling begin to rock back and forth. Strange noises came from what I assumed to be the man and woman speaking, but which far more resembled something darker, something which could not be human. I saw myself. My face, which began normal, began to distort. My eyes turned black and expanded as did my mouth in the form of a never-ending shriek. I had no control, I saw no light. How long was this going to happen? How long had it been going on at this point? I looked as if I saw all of my fears being brought to light, and I could not control it. There was no stopping it, there was no light. The strange noises did not stop. There was no escaping.

 

With a sudden flick of the lights, I was standing once again in the room, the sling no where to be found, my vision restored to it’s normal point of view. The man and the woman both stood opposite of me, smiling as if I had done well, but as if nothing had happened at the same time. She simply ushered me towards the door with a smile, without words, and shut the door behind me. My last vision as the door slammed shut being the man and woman, with a devilish smile.

 

As the door shuts, I began to feel emotion flood over me, something I had not felt since my situation began. Fear and questioning were predominant as I looked at the door. I stared at the door. I could not look away. I did not wonder where I was now. I simply began to float away, down the hallway. Things in the hallway began to pass faster and faster, but the door was still in perfect view. In my head all I could hear was the continuing devilish shrieking phrase, “Boys will be boys”.

 

Things now made sense. The vision I felt in my other situation now felt as if it was a blur. It was very distorted. Sweat covered my sheets and entire body. I grasped the bed I was sleeping on and immediately sat up in bed. I looked at my hands, and they were surprisingly vivid. I looked around and realized I was in my dorm room as my roommate slept in the bed next to me. I laid back down in relief. “It was just a dream” I said over and over again in my head. I laid back down and closed my eyes in peace. I knew that fearful dream had ended. Everything was going to be ok, it was if it were a scary movie. Then it dawned on me as a reopened my eyes, it was not as if it were a movie. This was my dream, which meant it was my thoughts. I had made up this world which scared me so amazingly.

 

In fear, I did not close my eyes for the rest of the night.

 

Why would I make this up in my head? What did it all mean? These are questions I should have been able to answer, but at the time, and still now, I cannot.

 


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