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It was a hot summer’s day. Everything around me was slowly starting to melt: the trees, the houses, the sky and the pathway to my garage. It seemed that I was about to melt down myself, so there would only be a small puddle of glue-like substance left on the ground. I was walking very slowly. My head felt huge and heavy, and every muscle in my body was sore. My arms and legs were barely responding to the signals that my brain was sending to them. It felt like a slow-motion horror movie, only it was happening live. I finally reached the front door and touched the handle. The path that took only a second for my eyes to see, took about twenty minutes for my body to accomplish. But, I was finally at my goal.
I slowly turned the handle of the door, only to realize it had barely moved. I took all the strength that I had left in my body and pressed the handle again. No success. I turned around, leaned against the door, and slowly slid down to the ground. I felt faint. My head was spinning. I was so thirsty that I could barely think about anything else. I had to get inside; had to pull myself together and open the door. Otherwise, I would faint here, near the front entrance to my own house, which was not the scenario I’d prefer. I pulled myself from the ground and faced the door again. I closed my eyes for a second, took a deep breath, opened them, and pushed the door knob as hard as I could, at the time. It gave way grudgingly. If it wasn’t for the helpless shadow of a man that I was at that moment, I would definitely have screamed in happiness for finally winning, over this stubborn door knob. But, all I could settle for right then was a weak smile, and a deep sigh of relief.
I went inside, and had to wait for a minute before I could make out anything. It was too dark, still very hot and, somehow, very lonely inside. By the time my eyes adapted to the darkness inside, I could tell no one was around. What time was it? And where was everyone? The house was completely and scarily quiet. The silence was unnatural. There was no sound coming from the working fridge, or ticking clock; nothing. I went to the kitchen to get some water, opened the tap and put an empty glass under it. But there was no water, not even a drop! The glass remained empty. This seemed like a complete nightmare. I must be dreaming! I felt like the world had died out, everything had stopped and, somehow, I was forgotten here all alone, left to die from thirst and heat.
I was having a panic attack. With the anger and strength that came out of nowhere, I ran from one room to another, looking for anyone. Mom, Josh, dad, Charlie – no one was to be seen. The dogs were gone too. What is wrong with the place? Again, for the third or fourth time, I caught myself thinking this was just a bad dream. But, my body still felt very much sore, and I could vividly feel the pain. Having no clue of what else, except the pain, could help me distinguish between dreaming and reality, I had to accept the fact that I was living this nightmare for real. Suddenly, I heard a sound coming from downstairs. It was a very slight, faint sound that repeated in a second, only louder. I ran downstairs, feeling a little scared, and, at the same time, hoping that it was someone, or something, that could explain to me what was going on.
The living room was empty. The sound was coming from outside the back porch, and it was increasing in loudness with every new cycle. It reminded me of when dad and I went rowing, and every time dad turned over the oars, they made the same whistling sound, cleaving the air. I ran outside the back door, and was almost brought down to the ground by the strength of the wind. It was a helicopter, right above me, coming onto me. I lay on the ground, screaming, but I couldn’t hear my own voice through the noise of the implacable vanes getting closer, and freezing me to the ground…
… “Jason, honey, wake up! It’s just a dream, babe. You look so pale. Are you okay?” My mom was standing next to my bed, trying to calm me down, as I was still screaming and flapping my arms. The air was on, and the fan above my bed was making that particular whistling sound with each turn. |
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