*edit: FREEDOM! Not really for me but I'm trying to be optimistic :D Okie here you go. *hides behind desk*
Dream
The young woman looked around her. Everything seemed a little fuzzy at the edges. Some part of her mind registered that she was in her office at the law firm she owned. She stepped forward in familiarity--and the bookshelf to her left came crashing down, passing right through her body.
***
Marilyn Brooks woke up with a strangled gasp, her brow beaded with sweat.
Childish, she berated herself, When have I ever woken up in panic because of a nightmare? I start now, after winning that lotto jackpot, the biggest break of my life? She scoffed.
Marilyn soon dozed off again. Come morning, the nightmare was all but gone from her mind.
***
It was the following Tuesday. Marilyn hummed cheerfully to herself while she made coffee during her lunch break. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, her business was going well, and her sweet little sister was ecstatic for getting into her dream college; and plus, she now had an extra 3 million dollars in her bank account. Life has never been so good.
She turned back towards her office--and a huge crash made her jump out of her skin, spilling her coffee. (The carpet! she groaned to herself.) Deciding to deal with the stain later, Marilyn rushed to investigate.
The bookshelf-or what had once been the bookshelf-was now a pile of boards. Huge volumes of law lay scattered on the floor.
As the young woman stood over the carnage, a strange feeling of déjà vu passed through her. She dimly recalled the memory of her standing in that very spot as the bookshelf crashed down.
A nightmare, she remembered, and now it has actually come true... but that's ridiculous! Dreams don't foretell the future. It was just my subconscious mind playing tricks on me. There is nothing unusual about it. I've been meaning to fix that loose screw anyways.
***
No matter how much Marilyn tried, though, she could not get the image of the falling shelf out of her mind. She looked so unnerved that after some time, Mike Retz, her handsome and sweet colleague, spoke up.
"Marilyn, hey, you okay there? You've been distracted all afternoon. Something wrong?"
Marilyn hesitated. "Uh...it's nothing, really. I'm too paranoid for my own good." she tried to smile reassuringly, but it came out more like a grimace.
"Don't worry, you can tell me, Marilyn. I'm a psychology major, remember? This kind of stuff is my specialty."
"Alright. Marilyn sighed. "I had a bad dream, that's all. I dreamt vividly of that bookshelf falling and then it actually happened. Crazy, right?"
Mike laughed. "Crazy indeed. Don't think too much of it, boss, our subconscious minds do strange things. You're ever the superstitious one, Marilyn. See if your next dream comes true too, eh?" He winked at her. He looked oddly thoughtful.
"Thanks Mike. I'm fine now, really."
It sounded rather a lot like Marilyn was trying to convince herself.
***
It has been a long day. Marilyn showered, took her usual migraine medication, brushed her teeth, and all but collapsed on top of the covers.
***
The dream started off the same way. Marilyn was standing alone in her office, and everything was deathly quiet.
She looked out of the 8th floor window as a pair of headlights swung into view around the street corner.
Suddenly, a faint sizzling sound reached her ears, and before she could process what was going on, the rear of the car burst into flames.
***
Marilyn bolted upright in her bed.
Not again, she thought as the thudding of her heart gradually subsided. That escalated way too quickly; first the bookshelf, now a burning car. What's next? What could my mind possibly think up that'd be even worse than that?
***
The next morning at work, Mike approached Marilyn again.
"Hey, did you have another dream last night?" His tone was light, joking, but there was almost a need to know.
"Um, yes, actually; a car burst into flames, right outside my office window! I mean, what are the chances of that happening?" Marilyn laughed nervously.
"Quit freaking yourself out. That couldn't possibly happen; relax. It's not like your dreams are prophetic or anything."
"Yeah…you’re right," Marilyn said in a small voice.
***
Marilyn was lounging on her couch, flipping through the TV channels, when she saw the news report.
Car bursts into flames outside M. Brooks Law Firm, it read, Accident caused by leaking fuel tank and discarded cigarette butt. Driver is currently in hospital with minor burns.
Marilyn froze in shock. That was exactly like what happened in her dream!
That was no coincidence; the chances of a freak accident like that happening...unless the car was sabotaged (unlikely).
"Ohmygod!" The sudden thought hit her so hard she shouted out aloud. What if it's the other way around?! What if...what if it's what I dream about that comes true?
***
That night, Marilyn could not fall asleep. She twisted and turned in her bed, afraid to close her eyes. The logical and superstitious parts of her battled for dominance; the superstitious part won. She lay, staring at the ceiling for hours, until finally, exhausted, she dozed off.
***
This time, the dream was different, special. Marilyn was not in her office, or anywhere near her office, in fact. She was standing on a deserted sidewalk. It was dark, and there was a chill in the air. A small form was silhouetted against the faint light of the street-lamps. Marilyn squinted, trying to adjust to the semi-darkness. It was a young woman, carrying an expensive-looking purse, walking briskly away. All was well, until Marilyn noticed a dark shadow darting behind mailboxes and garbage bins, steadily advancing on the unsuspecting woman.
Marilyn opened her mouth in warning, but it was too late.
There was the metallic gleam of a knife, a scream, a struggle for the purse, and dark red seeping into the cracks in the hard concrete ground.
***
Marilyn's eyes snapped open, and she started screaming and sobbing hysterically. Pure terror coursed through her veins. Her mouth tasted dry and bitter. (What a strange aftertaste of those migraine meds.) She felt as if a hammer was driving a nail into her skull-her head felt like it was about to split in two; her heart thudded painfully in her chest.No, she thought, No no no no no! The poor woman... please...let that be a dream, just a dream, and let nothing come of it...
If only some divine being had heard and granted her desperate wish, if only...
***
Marilyn dragged herself to work the next day, felling sick to her stomach. Her hands trembled as she tapped on the keyboard.
Mark poked his head into the office. “Bad dream again?” He seemed unsurprised.
“It…it was horrible,” Marilyn choked out. “I dreamt of a young woman being stabbed by a burglar, and-and she was bleeding out on the concrete.” Her eyes glistened.
“Hey, there, there,” Mark patted her comfortingly on the shoulder. “It was just a dream, it wasn’t real. Surely something that horrible would never happen here. It’s such a nice neighborhood and all. Don’t worry, everything will be fine,” he reassured her.
“I really hope you’re right, Mark. Thanks for being my confidant.” Marilyn smiled tearfully.
“No problem, Marilyn. Glad to be of help.”
***
That night, held up by some documents, Marilyn was the last one to leave the firm. She was walking back home. It was dark-the street lamps barely illuminated the edge of the sidewalk. There was no other person in sight. Absorbed in her thoughts, Marilyn did not notice anything amiss until she felt something wet on the ground.
Marilyn crouched down. The liquid was not a puddle of rainwater, but a trail of darkish red color. She followed the trail of liquid, and saw a dark shape on the ground.
Horror rising in her throat, Marilyn hurried forward to take a closer look.
A slender body was collapsed in a pool of blood. The woman had hair the same shade as Marilyn’s, which fell in waves, obscuring her face. Marilyn parted the woman’s hair, heart pounding.
The vacant eyes of her beloved sister stared back at her.
She clutched her head and screamed and screamed and screamed.
***
They say Marilyn Brooks went mad with shock and grief at her little sister’s horrific murder. She was sent to a specialized (“Mental,” they whispered.) hospital and died soon after, her body failing along with her mind.
They say because her sister, her only known relative, had died, all of her property-including her new-gained fortune-went to her fiancé.
Her fiancé, a sweet and handsome man who was apparently secretly engaged to Marilyn, was of course devastated, but said he would try to move on.
His name was Mark Retz.
~END~
Holy crap. It was a bad idea reading this before going to bed... 0_0
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