This time was different, I woke up with sweat dripping down my face. The dream was vivid, so real. Why won’t they stop, Why can’t I get even one night of decent rest. The nightmares engulf me and I can’t stop thinking about them. The others were dream-like and I felt it, I knew I was dreaming. Not tonight. This time it was my life, it was my story but yet it was not.
The girl I am controlling in the dream is walking down a darkened street, the lamps flicker with every few steps taken. The pavement was dampened with the dew falling through the night. There weren’t any houses and she couldn’t see past the lamps from which the light was emitting. She doesn’t know where she is, or what she’s doing there. She continues to walk and suddenly, she hears a faint sob, then the child starts to cry. She frantically starts to follow the direction the sound is coming from. Mile after mile she walks, to no avail. The crying is just constant and never changes. It hurts her soul and she feels the child’s pain, she feels the despair and lonliness as if it were her own. She started to run as she became more distressed over the heartbreaking cry. She sees a light pole with a blue hue shining on the asphalt, she runs toward it, breathless. This has got to be something of significance. I need to find him. Under the light there Sat a blue back pack, it had a pirate and ship on it with the name DYLAN written in permanent marker along side the zipper. She heard a rustle of leaves to the left of her, she peers into the darkness. A small boy is sitting in the grass looking down. She cautiously approaches him to ask if he’s okay. He looks up but his face isn’t a face at all. Its beaten in and unrecognizable. “Oh my God!”
Then I wake up.
I sit up in bed, I can hear the train outside my window as it passes on its midnight run. I need a drink. I get up and go down the hall to the kitchen, still feeling on edge from the nightmare. I open my fridge and grab for the bottle of tequila left over from my birthday. Man I need a therapist. Ha! Yeah right, maybe if I was one of those rich girls with daddy’s credit card. No, even then I probably would never go to a session. Minimum wage at a retail shop will never afford such care. I shall sit in my kitchen alone yet again with the only company being my Siamese cat named boojie, or B-man as everyone calls him.
B-man sits judgingly on the counter across from me staring at my drink in hand, “I know B, it’s so bad for me. Ugh, just listen to me talking to my freaking cat. I’ve seriously got to go socialize for once.” He meows in response and jumps down to go do whatever it is a cat does at 4 in the morning. I decide to take two benadryl and call it a night, I pour the alcohol down the sink.
Its morning again, but hey it’s friday! Let’s get this party started. I get dressed and start the day.
On my way to work I turn to my favorite radio station, mixture of all music dubbed cool by anyone in their thirties. I love that they have the weather and news report playing on my way to work. I’m listening off and on as usual, until I get a chill and the hair on my neck stands on end. The radio announcer goes to the news reports and I hear something that sends shivers down my spine, “Breaking News: We have gotten word that there is an Amber Alert issues for a 4 yr old boy. His name is Dylan but is called Lee by family. Last known whereabouts were on old hwy 4 playing in his front yard with a friend. He was wearing a gray sweatshirt, denim pants, and had a blue back pack with his name on it. He is about 40 inches tall and has black hair with green eyes. If you or someone you know has any, I repeat ANY information contact the Doorit Co Sheriffs office…”
The announcer kind of trails off as I’m trying to catch my breath. Could this be? Of course not! You aren’t psychic, but the details… Nobody would believe me. I don’t have anything to help anyway, no street signs or landmarks, just a face. A broken and beaten face. My goodness, I’ve got to find out more about this boy, I decide to skip a day of work today and try out my P.I. skills…
