Chapter 6

If you missed Chapter 5 you can read it here.

I wandered through the rest of the day at school in an almost dream like stupor.  Never before in my entire life had a dream felt so real.  Was it a dream?  If it was how did I explain the bite on my leg?

I decided to skip 4rth period for many, many reasons, and instead went to the library.  I spent the hour reading everything I could find on dreams, meanings, interpretations, etc. Some of what I read was really scary.

One author theorized that our dreams could even manifest in reality.  Could that explain the bite on my leg?

When school was over I walked home.  Step by step I took everything in.  Normally I would listen to music.  Daisily drifting along, not really paying attention to my surroundings. Not today.  Today I noticed every rock, every tree, the way Mrs. Waterman pranced around her house in her underwear oblivious to the fact that her blinds were open.  Everything.

When I got home a feeling of both excitement and dread started to creep up from the pit of my stomach.  Twisting and turning my emotions into knots like a pair of headphones that have sat at the bottom of your bag for weeks.

I stood there, in front of my house staring at the front door.  Should I go in?  Of course I should go in.  Why wouldn’t I go in?  It was my house afterall.  But standing there, looking at it, something felt wrong.  Something wasn’t right.

I shook my head, steadied myself and walked up to the front door.  This was silly.  It was just a dream.  A really powerful, confusing, emotionally scary dream, but it was still just a dream!

I had almost gotten myself under control when I looked down at the door handle, and for the first time noticed that the front door to my house was slightly ajar.

I froze, not daring to move.  It wasn’t until my brain and body started screaming for oxygen that I realized I had been holding my breath.

With a gasping breath I somewhat steadied myself and pushed open the front door.

My home was exactly the way I remembered it.  Clean, put together, and all the furniture in the right place.

I walked inside and called out to see if anyone was home.  The house remained unsettlingly quiet.

Carefully I crept into the kitchen looking around.  Was someone suppose to be home? What time would mom be getting back from picking up my sister from ballet?

I sat down at the kitchen table and took a heavy breath.

That is when I noticed the envelope sitting on the table with my name on it.  It was an old envelope weathered and yellow.  My name was written on the front in what could have only been a calligraphy pen of some sort.  Given the droplets of ink it might have even been done with an old ink and quill set.  Picking it up and turning it over I noticed a crimson wax seal.  I could make out the shape of a Y pressed deeply into the wax.

What the hell was this?

I broke the wax seal and pulled out a piece of weathered old parchment.  The handwriting was written in the same beautiful calligraphy as my name on the front of the envelop.

It read “Declan, by the time you read this you will have returned to your own time.  I am sure you are confused, and I am sorry for that.  Events are in motion, and I don’t know why but YOU are at the center of them.

iStock_000012456491SmallIf you are reading this at the time and place I think you are the world is coming close to an almost catastrophic event.  One that will change everything.  You have been given a small glimpse of what is to come.

I am still working out how, but it seems that you may be able to stop it, or at least warn people it’s coming.  However that time has not yet come.  You need to let events unfold naturally, and some of them are going to be very hard for you to get through.  I’m sorry for that.  There is no other way around it.

In a few short hours I believe you will join me here, again.  I am making preparations to show you the things you need to know.  When it happens please follow my instructions this time.  Our time together is very short and very brief.

In the meantime make yourself a sandwich.  Enjoy your time with family.  We will talk soon.


P.S. Sorry about the dog bite, but I had to wake you up before the sun came up.”



Writing Prompt #12


Write a short story about a conspiracy theorist or psychic who predicts something awful, but can’t get anyone to believe him.

Death and Prison

I am not going to go into detail on this subject, but I found out yesterday that someone I know was arrested, and put in prison over the weekend.  Ever since I found out I have been thinking about life, living, peace, happiness, sorrow, and death.

Last night I was journaling some of my thoughts, and without planning to, I started writing a short story.

I laid in my hospital bed.  The air smelled stale with a heavy trace of disinfectant.  I rolled my eyes irritated that my last remaining breaths would sentenced to  breathing in the arid scent of bleach.

No one was in the room with me.  No family, or friends stood by my bedside to comfort me as I crossed over to the other side.  No loving wife who would sit bravely next to me, holding my hand, while she told me she loved me.  I didn’t even have a faithful and loving dog that would lay down at the foot of the bed till it was over.

I was alone.

My life had been a hard one, and time had finally caught up with me.  Dying is something that will come to all of us.  I knew it, you know it, its a fact that none of us can escape.  But none of us think about it.  We put it at the back of our mind, pretend it isn’t there, and make jokes about living forever.

I had known my death was coming months before the diagnosis.  Death had been on my mind for the better part of a year.  I saw it everywhere, and worse yet I felt it.  Like an ever present pressure just behind you, following you.  Death was coming for me, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

Figures my life would end like this.  Alone.  I didn’t care.  I was ready for life to end, to be over.  Life had not been kind, and I was happy to see it finally come to a close.  And so as I closed my eyes, and took my last breath I bid farewell to life, and hoped whatever lay beyond would be better.

For what seemed like eternity I was in darkness.  I wasn’t standing, sitting or lying down.  I was just there, present and dead.  Don’t ask me how I knew I was dead, but I knew that I had died.  I had no body to feel with, or eyes to see.  I wasn’t even sure I could move, and even less sure if I wanted to.  So I just remained where I was.

Time passed, but seemed to have no meaning on where I was.  I have no idea how long I was there, but eventually I felt a pull.  Not a physical pull, but certainly a powerful one.  Whatever I was, whatever I had become, this pull reverberated down to the core of my very being.  I followed the pull, and eventually saw, or better yet, felt light.  

It grew brighter, and more intense with each passing moment.  I was moving towards it with such speed that I actually felt afraid.  Like I was going to crash into whatever the light was, and splatter my new form into pieces.  But I had no way to stop it.  Whatever was pulling me was in complete control and I was only along for the ride.

My fear grew as I hurtled towards the brilliant white light, until I somehow felt an explosion.  My very essence had seemed to rip through some kind of invisible barrier.  I was surrounded by other presences like my own.  Millions upon millions of them.  I could feel them.  I was connected to them.

That was when I heard the voice.  A deep booming voice that seemed to come from everywhere all around me.  It said “Prisoner 44371.  Your time has been served.  Welcome back.”