17.11.2010
It all began with a dream
Chapter 1: A parallel dream
Blair awoke with transfixed red eyes staring into his mind. They looked as if they were stained with blood, dark and hollow, absolutely emotionless. The young boy was paralysed, the eyes torturing him. His stomach flipped nervously in his belly and Blair thought: Was this death?
His mouth felt thick, as did his head in conjunction with his numbing fingers. He twitched them experimentally, and realised with a small shock that they were no longer shackled. As he ran his cold fingers over the place where the shackled once bound him, he could no longer feel the rod-iron cuts which slashed his skin with the overwhelming heat of burning hot fire. Indeed, he was floating, swaddled in clean linen and soft angel-like blankets. He turned, catlike, as he embraced the softness of his pillow. The scent was pleasant, it was familiar. There was no more burning fire which kindled within him, no lake filled with a burning poisonous acid-like substance. However, there was no heavenly choir, either, which stood to present him to the gates of heaven. Blair unconsciously sat up. Even with his eyes now fully open in order to familiarise his surroundings, he knew what he had just experienced must have been more than just a dream. He was back in his old room. He knew that it was real; it felt too real not to be. But Blair could not explain his absence as he sat with a puzzled expression.
Blair sat up to see the state of his dusty stricken room, he was back. No longer was he morphed within a horrible nightmare which distorted his entire core. His dream became more fazed as time pressed on. He was aware of the horribleness of the petrifying encounter he had just experienced. As Blair sat, a pool of sweat trickled down his face and plummeted into a lake of sweat which stained his sheets. His old canopy futon lay beside his discoloured maroon wall which was plastered with pictures of his most favourite wizard of all time, Harry potter! Only a fictional character could provide peace for Blair. The smell of old gym socks and dusty books filled the air. Tatty newspaper clippings scattered the floor. He knew he had to clean up, after all his mother had told him to clean his room over 5 times in the past week alone.
Blair's breath grew cold and shallow. His features relaxed slightly by the familiarised surroundings. Blair swallowed hard. How was it possible for a dream to feel so real, so dreadful? He could feel the racing of his heart beat like the exhilarating speed of dashing thoroughbreds during the Melbourne Cup. Then flashes of the dream re-entered his mind.
Blair was standing in an arctic gloomy forest, tinted with trees. As he stood in an abnormal clearing, no animals arose, it was blank. A fresh chill came upon him as the wind pressed his pale skin. Leaves swayed cutting through the air, the mysterious ghost like wind paraded the landscape with unnerving force. The mountainous trees began to sway in a steady chilling movement. Blair was now lost. The smell of sap and acorns mesmerized his senses; all Blair knew was that he was in a forest, but where? This is what sickened him the most. As his stomach continued to turn, he felt nauseated. Suddenly a burning like flame soared within him. Blair dropped to the course ground as he gripped his stomach in pain.
Suddenly a snake-like voice appeared "hello Blair."
Looking confused, Blair jumped to his feat and straightened up to see where the petrifying slithering voice had came from. Nothing moved. The darkened forest lit up, the glistening moon rays shun through the dark sky scrapper trees. There is was. Sitting at the base of the largest tree, was a black hooded object. Blair's breathing slowed as his hart raced, almost trying to charge its way out from his body in panic. Everything hurt, even the ring which his mother gave him for his 15th birthday burned.
The cloaked man rose from his seating position. Unexpectedly the wind stopped and the air became stiff and stale. Blair realised something was wrong, very wrong. If only the voice inside him had alerted him to run, but it was too late. With a quick raise of the hooded figures hand, lightning fast cages began to constrict him. With a perplexed gaze, Blair struggled to push away the encircling cage. With each breath the bars grew fiercer. As the bars started to constrict his airways, pools of sweat darted from his forehead, sliding down his neck. Each precious breath Blair identified would be his final. Shackles bound his hands and feet with great compression as they began to slice away his skin. The ever increasing high temperatures from them became unbearable. Blair looked down at his hands as he bit his lip trying to endure the pain, blood began to spill. As the light began to disappear; piercing soul sucking red eyes caught Blair's final gaze. Then without a moments forewarning they vanished.