1.02.2009

Nightmare

I am running through the woods. The sky is dimming; dusk is falling. I am looking for someone, but I don't know where he is. I keep running through the eerily silent woods. I fear the sunset, but I don't know why.

The trees start to thin gradually and I enter a clearing. Panting, I stop for a moment to catch my breath. I take a look around and I realize that the clearing is full of people. How am I supposed to find the one I am looking for? A flash from the clearing's other end catches me in the eye, blinding me for a moment as the sun passes over it. It is a giant mirror, though no people or trees are reflected in it.

I take off again, jogging into the crowd, looking this way and that. I call his name but there is no response, just a bunch of people, buzzing with a flurry of distant, intermingled emotions.

Finally I see him. I shout his name and he looks up.

"Cypress!" he cries upon recognizing me. (Note: Actually I'm not sure what he called me. I don't even remember if it was my own name.) He approaches me like an old friend, even though I'm unsure if I know him in the real world or not. "It's so good to see you!" he says, and he means it.

I break down and start sobbing. Understanding my fears, he draws me close and I sob into his chest. "You have to go back," I manage to choke out.

He doesn't reply for a moment, but he strokes my hair to soothe me. "There is no place for me there."

I break away, tears still on my face. "It's your home! You have to go home!" I protest. "Please, go back."

He shakes his head. "I cannot go back, only forward." It is now almost fully dark, the sun has set. There are no stars, no moon.

"Forward to where?" I ask, but my voice is suddenly lost in a strong gust of wind. I notice that the crowd is gone and we are alone. I steal a glance at the strange mirror at the clearing's other side. It is gone, having been replaced by a fluttering curtain. I cannot see beyond it.

The wind still blows softly as he gives me one last hug before he turns away and walks toward the curtain. "No, stop!" I shout, but he doesn't turn back around.

I am rooted to the spot, I couldn't move further if I tried. He nears the curtain and I stand with baited breath as he passes through it as if it were mist.

I realize that I am crying again, sobbing and screaming his name. Deep down, I know that it is no good. He is gone forever.

5 comments:

Taylor said...

Okay, that reminded me of Harry Potter and Twilight combined. And a bit of you in there, of course.

That was mildly creepy...You actually dreamed that, then?

Hm...Didn't Kristin give you a book of dreams or something? Try and interpret it!

Cypress said...

Yeah. I don't think I was me though, I didn't feel like myself. Kind of hard to describe, very strange dream. Also what's even weirder is that if I dream I am crying, I'm going to wake up crying. But I didn't wake up crying, I woke up creeped out. *sigh* I guess I should try that. It reminded me a lot of Harry Potter, with the veil thing. Stupid Harry Potter.

Taylor said...

Harry Potter's gay, but the series is good, ROFL.

I dreamed that Kalyani had a buzz cut.

And here's my creepy dream:

I had just hugged Matthew goodbye in the gym lobby after homeroom, and was walking across the lobby to go to 2nd Period History, when the room, like, exploded. It wasn't like a bomb, really, because there wasn't any fire, and it wasn't like a school-shooting, but it like, exploded. There were people lying around me everywhere, and I was just sitting there covered in dust and blood, most my own, because there was a massive hunk of concrete stuck in my leg. But surprisingly, I didn't notice the pain. I got up, picked my way non-limping through the rubble as fast as possible, and hurried to where Matthew was. He was sitting there and freaked out when he saw the concrete sticking out of my leg, and I was freaking out because he had like, a one inch gash across his forehead.

What does that say? That I freak out more? :P

Cypress said...

Just a bit, poor Taylor. Matthew and you are both fine. No worrying about MORE bomb threats, it will only stress you out more.

Taylor said...

:p

Now that I think about it, it's actually rather amusing.

Hello!

Wow, you really read all that? Danggg. Props! =]

Well, I see you've just had the imponderable joy of stumbling onto the blog of an 18-year-old girl who can't really describe herself in 500 words or less, such as in little text boxes like these. She didn't intend her blog to really become so much like her online diary (she was hoping it would have an interesting, helpful purpose to serve the world and all) but blogging is just kind of fun. This girl's a bit of an environmentalist and a full-tilt vegetarian, a bit of an artist who can't draw, a bit of a writer who can't find time to read, and a completely hopeless romantic. She enjoys white chocolate, coloring, wading in creeks, music, Doctor Who, and speaking in third-person when it's unnecessary like this.

Now go read the rest of the blog and meet her, if you like of course. :)