Dreams and Reality
The silken white cloth of her dress weaved between the pine trees and fog. She had been beautiful back on the dance floor of the nightclub, but now she was covered in dirt and had scratches on her face. Her choice in shoes made it easy for me to catch her. Stilettos, not good for your bones or for running. I lurched at her and we fell into the autumn pine needles. Her face paled to the sickly shade of a crescent moon. I pulled my Stanley knife out, pressed it against her slender neck and slit her throat. The crimson blood ran onto the ground, onto my hands, staining her dress.
My heart skipped a beat. Dazed I looked around trying to get my bearings. Light glared through a window onto white walls. My eyes took awhile to adjust. I was in my room. So I dreamed the girl in the forest. That's relieving but I still felt sick in the stomach. Unfortunately it wasn't the first time I dreamed about killing people. The dreams were all similar but not one the same. I always killed a different person, and they weren't all from the nightclub. Sometimes I wouldn't chase them into the forest but would cold bloodedly stab them on the street. My gut turned and twisted, why do I keep having these dreams? They make me feel so awful.
A voice called out to me,
"Mathew, I cooked some bacon and eggs, do you want some or not?"
It was my roommate Jonathan, we'd been friends since childhood. The first time we met I had my dusty blonde hair caught in a wire fence. He spent the next half an hour helping me get untangled.
"Oi, Mathew, are you even up?" he called out again.
"Yeah, yeah, coming," I shouted back.
The kitchen was small and had pale blue walls. Light shone through a curtained window above the sink. It reminded me of an old ladies house who owned way too many cats. Jonathan was lolling on the couch, a crumbed plate beside him.
"On the table," he answered before I even asked the question of where was breakfast. My dream was still in my head. I wondered if I should tell Jonathan about it. I looked over my shoulder to him, he looked tired, maybe I'll tell him later.
After finishing breakfast I got ready for the day and left for Uni. Hoping to clear my mind I walked through the crisp air. The day was fresh and the birds chirping. Things might start getting better. But not even five minutes from the university campus I passed a forest similar to my dream. The sick feeling came back.
• • •
"Good, he's gone," Jonathan sighed, three minutes after Mathew had left. He got up from the secondhand couch and walked over to the washing machine. Opening the door and pulling out Mathews' green jumper, still with some bloodstains on it. Jonathan took the jumper to the sink and scrubbed the bloodstains until the pristine white soap turned to a mucky brown colour. He then put it back into the washing machine and began a thorough house clean. After he was done there was not a crumb anywhere, not even for a mouse and there was most certainly no DNA that shouldn't have been there.
• • •
My keys rattled in the door. The door slipped open and I could smell the cleaning agents. I don't know why Jonathan does it but some days he just cleans way more than needed.
"Jonathan, you in?" I shouted
"I'm in here Mathew." His voice sounded weak and strained.
"Are you ok?"
"I'm fine just tired."
I found him head down on the table, as stiff as stone.
"Jesus Jon you look like you need to go to a hospital."
No response, suddenly I heard his voice behind me.
"I'm sorry Mathew, I just couldn't do it anymore. You're a good friend but this is goodbye."
The tape recorder clicked behind me and went to static. I ran to Jonathans' side and tried to revive him, tears gushing from my eyes. I called for an ambulance, constantly shouting his name until the paramedics came. I stepped out of their way and held my breath. One… Two… Three… Clear… still no response.
Red and blue lights are flashing. A crowd of local people and passing cars had stopped to watch the police go in and out of the house. The scene was loud but everything was silent.
The room was cold and small, it smelt of coffee and sweat. There were two others in the room besides me. Both nicely dressed, one in a brown suit and another in a grey suit with a green tie to match his eyes.
"We'd like to ask you some questions Mathew," the grey suited man said, "Where were you between the hours of 9am and 6pm today?"
I felt nervous even though I hadn't done anything wrong.
"I was at Kents' University of Sports, I had classes all day," I croaked. The grey suited man asked how my relationship with Jonathan was. I said it was good. The brown suited man just stared. His furrowed brow grew deeper, his lips opened, "Did you kill Jonathan, Mathew?" he husked at me.
"No I didn't! He was my best friend," I shouted, tears welling up in my eyes.
"We just had to ask," the grey man calmly said, "Would you like some coffee?"
I agreed, then both of them left the room, before the door closed I heard one of them say that they would need a sample of my blood.
A week after Jonathan died I sat alone in my empty apartment listening to the clock tick and tock, eventually I would fall asleep on the couch, like every other day. Just drifting off into my own thoughts. Hours passing. It all fades to black.
I awake to the sound of my front door splintering open. Several police officers enter all suited up in riot gear. One of them shouts to me,
"You're under arrest." Two grab me. The first police officer continues,
"For the murders of Jonathan Hyde, Amelie Greenwich and half a dozen others, anything you say will or can be used against you in a court of law."
His lips continue moving, but my ears go deaf. What does he mean murders? I hadn't killed anyone. I didn't even know Amelie and I most certainly wouldn't have killed Jonathan.
Back in the cold coffee smelling interrogation room, I was shown pictures of everyone I had presumably murdered. I felt nauseous. I knew these people. They were the people from my dreams. I had killed them. I can't remember the exact events that happened after that. We moved into a different room, possibly because of the vomit that came from my mouth. I guess the sick, twisted feeling of murdering someone got to me. I didn't want to believe it but I indeed must have killed those people. It wasn't a dream.
• • •
A blue light is flickering in some sort of waiting room. A figure sits two chairs down from a door. The door opens. A woman steps out, most likely a secretary, her heels click as she walks. Her sweet yet melancholy voice speaks to the figure.
"We are ready for you Jonathan."
Jonathan got up and followed the woman back into the room in which she came from.
"Take a seat," the woman said, "He will be with you shortly."
Jonathan sat down in a round red chair in front of a mahogany desk. He listened to the clicks of the woman's' heels leave the room. A screen flickered up before Jonathan, a monotone voice rang out into the room.
"Well done Jonathan, you've completed phase 1: Manipulation of the mind and actions. The counsel congratulates you. Also you will find the sum of 105000 English Pounds in the top drawer to your right for the assassinations of Lachlan Oakes, Sienna Puls, Jessica Sun, Riley Cooper, Samuel Ryans, Lily Kent and Amelie Greenwich."
Jonathan slid the drawer open. A thick envelope sat neatly inside. The monotone voice continued.
"Now Jonathan it is time for phase 2: Destroy the mind. After this we can meet in person and begin your training of magical arts and warfare. Again we congratulate you, you have much potential to our future plans."
The screen dulled and disappeared entirely. Jonathan took the envelope and left with the clicking heels guiding him out.
• • •
1 month, 14 days and 2 hours ago I was sentenced to lifetime imprisonment. I was lying on my prison bed with the mattresses springs sticking into my everywhere, when a guard came in telling me I had a guest. Walking to the guest room I would've hoped it was my parents but they called when I first got here and said that I was a sick, twisted bastard who wasn't their son anymore. It hurt me deeply, but I had come to the fact that now, that I had murdered those people. I sat down at the booth in which my guest was waiting. As soon as I saw him I knew who he was and I knew I was crazy.
"Hello Mathew." Jonathans voice ringed out to me, "it's nice to see you again."
A thousand thoughts raced through my mind, not one an answer to this phenomenon. All I could croak out of my shattered voice was his name, "Jonathan?"
"Yes Mathew, you see the world is much bigger than you could possibly imagine, and I'm part of the bigger side." He let out a somewhat cheerful sigh,
"You were such a small child weren't you? I outgrew you and I had your complete trust. From that point on I knew it was you that I must use to get me where I wanted to be. Many things start with a dream, some of these dreams can be confused with reality. You were just a small part of phase 1. Your mind was so fragile, so easy to manipulate and control. For someone so small, think yourself privileged to be part of phase 2."
I was scared and quite confused. I could tell this wasn't going to end well. I wanted to know but at the same time I didn't want to know. But I must know, "What is phase 2?"
Jonathan chuckled and it chilled my blood. He looked up to me, shook his head and smiled, "Phase 2 is where I get to destroy your mind."
A high-pitched ringing filled my ears. My skin was like ice to touch. I felt myself slowly falling backwards. Through the ringing I heard Jonathans voice, "It was fun playing with you Mathew, sweet dreams."
My eyelids drooped,
The colours around me faded away to nothingness.
I never opened my eyes again.