• The Worst Kind Of Nightmare

    I woke with a start to my cell phone ringing. Who on earth is calling me before I even get up for school?, I thought. I picked my phone off of the nightstand and gazed at the bright screen. Elizabeth, it read. Two things went through my mind. First of all; Why did my alarm clock read 9:22? Did I sleep in? Second; Where is Midknight? I looked down on the end of my bed to confirm he wasn’t there as I pressed send.
    “Hello?” came a soft voice.
    “Elizabeth? What are you doing at home?”
    There was a short pause on the other line then, “What do you think I’m doing at home?”
    I stared again at the alarm clock and hopped out of bed. “Shouldn’t you be at school? It’s almost ten o’clock! Don’t we have school today?”
    The last question I asked not only to question Elizabeth but to also reassure myself that I didn’t just sleep in.
    “Well, yeah. I guess.” She replied.
    “Then why…” I began. “I’ll have to call you back.”
    We said our goodbyes and I headed down the hallway and into the living room. I checked all the clocks to make sure my alarm clock didn’t get shut off in the night, then to be shut back on again. But that wasn’t it, either. All the clocks in my house read 9:22. I ran to my parent’s bedroom only to find the TV blaring and an empty bed. I ran back to the living room and threw open the front door. The air was freezing and black. If it really was 9:22 in the morning it wouldn’t be dark at all!
    My mind started to search for logical explanations when I realized Midknight is still missing. Logic would have to wait. I searched all over the house and found nothing. Then I realized, Maybe he’s not in the house. So I ran to the kitchen, got a treat from under the sink and shuffled through the laundry room to the back door. I pulled back the curtains just to make sure. I looked down to the deck through the window and saw a fuzzy black tail waving at me.
    “Midknight!” I yelled. “What are you doing out in the cold like this! How’d you get out!” He curled up in my lap and began to lick my face. I wiped my face with the back of my sleeve and as it was turned I noticed the door standing open. My parents always lock the door before they go to bed, I thought. I hesitantly pulled the door shut and locked the deadbolt.
    I hatched a plan in my head as Midknight and I ran back to my room. I grabbed my cell phone off my bed and ran to the front door. I stood their, breathing deeply, my chest rising and falling. Am I going to run out in the dark like a crazed lunatic? Am I going to run out in the dark just to prove that I’m dreaming? Yes. Yes I am. I motioned for Midknight to stay inside. He ran and jumped up on the couch. He looked up at me.
    “Stay.” I commanded.
    I took one last deep breath and grabbed the doorknob and with a twist of the wrist, a burst of the black, cold air rushed past me. I ran out on the porch and shut the door behind me. My pajama pants seemed to be soaked in the cold. My hair tussled as the wind flew all around it in different directions. I ignored the cold by running as fast as I could to the tiny, two-lane road an acre down the drive. I came out past my mailbox and onto the road encased by pine trees and a thin line of bare Bradford Pears.
    The asphalt was cold under my feet; I could feel the texture of it on my soles. I looked both ways; not because I was being caautious of traffic. I was searching for something, anything, to give me the faintest clue of this being a dream. I slid my phone into my pajama pocket and brushed my hair out of my eyes. I smiled as I remembered my mom telling me to get my hair cut.
    I snapped back to reality as I heard as sound around the bend in the road. Light laced itself through the trees. This is it. I thought. A way to prove I’m dreaming. The sound seemed to grow and mutate as it drew closer. The sound of speed. The sound of rubber on asphault. The sound of an engine rumbling.
    The sound of a car.
    I centered my body in the street, bracing myself for the inevitable. I squinted my eyes closed and counted. I got to 15 when I heard a screeching noise and car doors opening.
    “Austin?”, a familiar voice asked.
    I opened my eyes to see my parents leaning out of the car door. My mom ran to me and embraced me. She pulled back my hair and stared at my face.
    “Honey? What are you doing standing in the middle of the road like this? Why is your face so pale? Honey?”
    I shook my head. “Where were you? It’s almost ten o’clock in the morning and it’s pitch bla--”
    “No, Austin. It’s 10 o’clock in the evening and we went to go get some gas so you won’t have to in the morning.” My dad interrupted.
    My jaw dropped. A tear of relief rolled down my cheeks and tumbled to to cold asphault. Everything came rushing back. I finally realized what had happened. I giggled. “I’m sorry.” I began. “I thought I was dreaming and so I came out here to wake myself and--”
    My parents walked me inside and I told them goodnight. I lay down in my bed and rest my head. That night I had no dreams.
    I was thankful for that part.