December Dream

Reads: 117  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Literary Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
This was a dream I had a couple of days ago. One of those vivid dreams you have when you've fallen back to sleep for an hour, where you wake and spend the rest of the morning trying to shake off the emotions the dream leaves you with. For some reason I felt compelled to record this dream in writing.
It featured 3 young people running from something unknown, during the flight the narrator becomes infatuated with the boy, he, however, is drawn to the other female. Being a dream there was much that was illogical, some I have tried to rationalise, but much is as it was dreamt.

Submitted: December 31, 2011

A A A | A A A

Submitted: December 31, 2011

A A A

A A A




The sunlight assaulted her eyes but she knew she must run, there was only a small window of opportunity. Ahead she could make out the dark head of her friend ,beside her was the boy, she glanced sideways, in that second she nearly faltered, her heart ignoring her thirsty muscles skipped a beat. He was beautiful.  A face caught between child and man. Run, keep running.
As her eyes adjusted she could see the field clearly, they were heading towards a copse, no looking back, keep running, back into gloom as they entered the trees, her friend stopped as if searching for a way but she ran on hearing them follow. Through trees winding down a slope and there ahead, a valley, she glanced quickly around, water...not deep but best avoided, was that a cause way? Flat stones piled making a path across the stream and along the far bank. The others were behind her, breathing hard, she steps onto the first stone pyre, it tottered but held, the next step was surer. She started to run; the stones creaked and protested as three sets of feet pounded over their slumber.
Suddenly she heard a gasp, a grate of stone, she turned and saw his hand reach out, grabbing her friend's, steadying  her, with an unexpected stab of jealously she noticed her friend failed to release his hand.
A shrill bell....run.  She turned again fleeing for the shore and the beckoning trees.
The rocks became scree became moss and dirt; they were scrambling upwards, climbing a track through trees and cliff.  She sensed a chase but the only sounds were her companions, scrabbling and panting behind her, even the ringing now seemed quiet and distant but still forced her on.
The path levelled and broke into a clearing, she sagged on to a boulder turning in time to see the boy, still clutching her friend, erupt into the clearing, he stopped and looked around, in that second her friend folded her body into the boy and kissed him, the cruel knife returned, finding the very pit of her stomach, twisting and causing her to wince. She sprung up and launched herself forward, through trackless trees, no longer certain which terror was driving her on. They were following, she could hear the crashing of branches and bodies.
The trees ended abruptly, ahead the terrain was scrubby, a common, which way?  There, in the distance, was that a bridge? A street? People? Wordlessly they ran as one, hauling themselves up onto a bustling street. What now? Deep in her head a voice was saying "police" but her body was more primal in it's need, flight, get far away. The others must have felt likewise. They stood, three hungry pairs of eyes scanning the scene before them.
“Which way?" she breathed.
" There, down there." he pointed, to the left and few hundred yards away was a subway sign. No more words just moving, running, descending. The tiled walls echoing hasty footsteps.
Along the passage and to the platform. A train already waiting, full of people all busy in their own lives. Her friend found a corner seat; she herself sat a few seats back, the other side of a large family, all chat and laughter. The boy stood in the aisle. Now she could look at him. His hair was evolving from the white blonde of childhood into the darker shades of an adult. The fringe troubling his eyes as his hand forced it back over his forehead. Those eyes were...blue? Yes blue, and framed by eyelashes no man had a right to. Under his perfect nose was a mouth that was full-lipped and astonishingly red. He was nervously chewing his lip. She could see he was staring at her friend, sat meters away from him, her dark hair tumbling across her face as she twisted to return his gaze. The friend smiled, she didn't need to look at the boy to know that he was smiling too, but she did.
The train pulled into a station; the family got up and spilled like loud liquid through the train doors out onto the platform. Now there were seats free. The friend moved to the furthest of the three in a line and for no reason she could fathom the boy went to sit in the seat at the other end leaving the middle seat vacant. She saw her opportunity and threw herself towards the remaining seat, as she did the friend, apparently realising the gap between herself and the boy made to slide into the same spot. She was not going to let that happen, digging a discrete knuckle into her friend's hip in a childish act she pushed the friend back into the far seat claiming her spot next to the boy.  It had been a futile gesture though, as the boy leaned his perfect face over her to take the hand of her friend.
Her heart fluttered and ached, juggling lust, jealously, betrayal and fear. Then suddenly it grew hot, it grew brave, she was free and she wasn't going to waste any opportunity again. She stood up, her legs breaking apart the linked arms of her companions.
" can I talk to you? Alone!" she hissed at him.
She walked to the divider next to the door, leaning her back on the cool glass and looking at herself in the black window, her hair, red, was wild; she raked her fingers through trying to tame the curls into some acceptable form. He flowed in beside her, silent, looking into her face, his eyes questioning. Her heart stopped, could she do this?
Her eyes stung, she still felt the edginess of adrenaline coursing  through her but she forced herself to return his gaze, willing her thoughts to find a voice.
" Do you see me?" she floundered, " do you know me?"
Bemused he replied, “you’re her friend."
" That's who I am is it? That's ALL I am is it?" she accused, anger and despair taking equal ownership of her heart. She hadn't notice the stopping of the train but at that moment the hissing of the opening doors stirred her from her grief and through a haze of forming tears she bolted out onto the platform, blindly seeking an exit. Behind she could make out words spoken "next station" and the hiss as the doors closed, she heard the now familiar sound of his foots steps running and in her head her mind made sense of these sounds, an instruction for her friend who had not made it to the door in time , him pursuing her, why?
She followed the white tiled passage curling upwards till it bent at a corner; she rounded the passage and threw herself against the white wall. Her breath ragged and the tears coming unchallenged. He sped round the corner drawing suddenly to a halt as he saw her there. He stood, facing her, breathing hard, those blue eyes seeking her hazel ones.
“Did you not see me, I saw you,“ she threw at him. " she, she, pushed herself in front of you and you never even glanced past her to me", forcing the words out towards the watery image swimming before her. She collapsed as she felt arms encircle her, smelt the warmth of his skin, of his exertion, felt the downy cotton of his shirt against the wetness of her face. Her heart leapt and jumped and danced, then in the same beat it withered as it realised the embrace of a brother and not a lover. Her betraying hands pushed him away from the body that longed for him, her eyes could not seek his instead found the hollow of his neck, noticing the hairs marking his changing years.
Ahead were stairs and she could sense the street above, the need for the cold air and escape drove her forward and she rushed the stairs two at a time.
"Wait!" he cried bolting after her, she swung round, he was a few steps below her. Her hand shot out
" Stop!" she ordered, “stay  ... there. I am nothing to you. Go... back. ", she sobbed. With a final turn and a few strides she was out of the subway running into the clear, cold air.
Below the boy hesitated, which was the crueller, to go after her , comfort her, console her, try to befriend her or to turn around, get back on the train and onward to the next station?
From beneath him the warm, heavy air of the subway crept up to caress his cheek. From above the chill air curled down to breathe against the other.
And he stood.


© Copyright 2017 shymum. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:

More Literary Fiction Short Stories

Booksie 2017-2018 Short Story Contest

Booksie Popular Content

Other Content by shymum

December Dream

Short Story / Literary Fiction

Popular Tags