My Curse

It’s hot. Sunlight everywhere. Kids playing in the background, their shouts and happy screams filling my ears. Hot. Hot. Warm.

I can tell its summer. By the smell. Ice cream and flowers and bees. Always bees. And I can tell that I’m reliving a memory that while had been previously forgotten, has now been embedded so deep even the senile years can’t erase.

I’m scared.

I know what comes next.

Two weeks tells me what comes next. Two weeks force me to breathe in deep and try to prepare. Two weeks of the same dream and I haven’t made a step forward in progress. Neither one back in retreat. Frozen. That’s what I am.

I flex my fingers and sit on a bench. The playground in front of me and yet, I don’t even try to see the playing kids. I already know I can’t.

When the air picks up and it drops a degree cooler, I know it’s begun. Where the pleasant fades away and the light dims.

I glance up at the sky, noting how black it’s suddenly become. Like that, I’m swarmed in darkness. My heart quickens and I’m standing, walking forward ready to greet the monster awaiting.

Monster.

That’s what he is. A monster.

I’ve seen him in books, tv shows, and movies. He’s called a werewolf in them. To me, though, he’s nothing more than an overpowering beast.

“Are you ready?” he growls, voice prominent through the fog beginning to swirl around me.

I raise my arms and push at the overwhelming air, making my way to him. He’s waiting like always, in the same position. Half standing-half sitting, haunches poised to strike. Covered in knotted and marled grey fur, his image would frighten any. Not so much me anymore. I am forced to be used to it.

His jaw is wide open and he bares his incisors at me. Menacing enough to warn me not to go any farther. A yellow eye rolls in its socket and the gaze burns.

“Are you ready,” he repeats. I shake my head. No, I’m not.

“Very well.” He rises and stalks towards me. I tense, but know he won’t strike.

Quickly, immediately, he disappears and I’m returned back to the summer day. To the one memory I’m allowed to live.

It’s my fault.

It’s my fear that traps me in this one dream.

If only I could summon the courage to fight the beast. To finally say yes. And attack. Claws against fists. Teeth against kicks. If only I’d fight. Win or lose, I’d be free. Free to control my dreams again. That was the deal.

I had agreed, not realizing what pit I’d jumped in. Now I understand it all too well.

I can’t leave because I am afraid. Afraid to lose to the werewolf.

I am afraid to die in my dreams. That is my curse.

 

 

Today in Creative Writing Club we got to choose our prompt to respond to. There were many interesting ones and all were fantastic! I’m pretty proud of our group.

And well, obviously this one is mine. I stole the prompt off reddit. I didn’t save the link or anything so I suppose I should google it and find it, but I don’t feel like that. So just know, it’s from reddit.

Writing Prompt: You are a child who experienced a nightmare about a werewolf. Now in every sleep, you experience the same nightmare. You have the choice to claim victory or defeat to end your recurring dream.

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Posted on May 13, 2014, in My Writings, Prompts/Challenges, Short Stories and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 6 Comments.

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