South Ashfield Blues
It's a cold November night and I'm at bed, dreaming. The dream goes a little something like this:
Everything is black when I realize that my eyes are closed shut. I open them and see that I'm suddenly deep underwater somewhere. Can't make out where's up and where's down. Starting to lose it.
Then, I see a light in the distant watery horizon. No, two lights. I swim towards them trying to hold my breath as best as I can, but I know that I don't have much time left.
As I get close to the source of the lights I find out that it's a car. A blue vehicle that, like me, has been submerged into this unknown prison.
The thought that I would have to immediately get out of there was abandoned when I saw some movement in the drowning automobile. It looked as if a person was trapped in there!
I quickly swam forward and reached the car's door, trying to pry it open with my bare hands. The pressure of this attempt at saving whatever poor soul was trapped in there made me lose track of my breath. I breathed in water while effortlessly pulling that door. My senses started to abandon me and, my vision blurring, I looked toward the window of the car directly into the trapped person's eyes. It was a young man that for some reason looked disturbingly familiar. As I drowned, the sound of a baby's screams reached my ears.
I awoke from my underwater nightmare and found myself safe in my bed in Room 105. But I could still hear the screams.
I ran out of my room and took the apartment's stairs to the third floor, approaching the source of the screams.
They appeared to be coming from Room 302, where that young couple lived. Sure I knew they just recently had a kid but it sounded like no one was there to stop it from crying.
I took the general keys out of my pocket and used the appropriate one to open 302.
No one was there except the crying newborn. Left there. Abandoned in the middle of the room.