“Oh good grief, do you ever shut up?”

            “I was just telling you about my dreams…” she sulked crossing her arms and pouting. I really do not have the patience for this girl.

            “I don’t care about your dreams, really and truly. Now leave me alone!” I slammed the book I was carefully looking through onto the desk and winced at the ear-splitting crack. She laughed and turned up her nose.

            “Serves you right”

            “Oh shut up and tend to the spirit section. You’ll be bloody at home there anyway” I swivelled around on my chair turning towards my laptop leaning against the wall. I didn’t see her leave but I heard her shuffle away from the desk and into the children’s fiction section.

            “I thought I said SPIRITS Claudine, now get to it!” I heard her sigh loudly and when getting no response from me she sighed again but louder this time. I rolled my eyes, really why on earth was I dating her anyway?

Maybe it was the hair that stretched half-way down her back in waves reminding me of soft wheat  or perhaps it was her face, it would’ve made angel’s weep for joy; perfect almond shaped jade green eyes, button nose and strawberry lips. Alas her personality left a lot to be desired.

Yeah, as if dreams told the future. If that was true than I’m surprised I’m still alive.

Ever since I can remember my life has been plagued by awful dreams. They all started fine, I was enjoying them even. But then it all goes down hill once I see the Door.

I am floating. Floating around the earth, orbiting it. I feel peaceful. It’s like I’m suspended in the ocean without the need to breath. I’m not breathing and strangely I don’t feel the need to. I look at my hands wavy dark pin-pricks spot them and I wonder if the stars are creating shadows. There is no noise where I am, not even silence. It’s an absence of noise that leaves me feeling slightly empty. My hands start to tingle and itch and one by one the pin-prick shadows disappear and I’m surrounded by a burning brightness. I feel a hard surface at my feet and wonder if it was there all along but I just forgot. In the distance I noticed a small red rectangle. As I stare at it, it zooms to the space in front of me and I take an immediate step backward. It’s the Door,  brick red with peeling paint and a dull brass doorknob. A flake of paint peels of, drips to the ground and lands on the tip of my shoe. It’s blood.

The doorknob glows with a sudden ferociousness and turns. The Door opens soundlessly and all I can see is an empty blackness. The black spills out lapping at my feet like waves. The waves grow and grow looming over me in a black tower. A name spins into my mind burning the inside of my skull; The Nightmares. The tower starts to crumble, stones and brickwork falling on top of me. That’s when I fall into the black and spiral down, my scream echoing around my head but not helping me at all. Then I feel a slow throbbing pain that sits in my stomach sickly. Pure, real terror.

As I’m falling I always think about what will happen when I stop falling. Pretty soon I find out. I collide with a solid surface and melt into the darkness until I bolt upright in my bed panting, the ruminants of the dream still lingering in my mind.

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Author guidance for This story

Joseph Knight is twenty-two years old. Ever since he can remember his life has been plagued by disturbing nightmares.

When he was five years old his father died of unknown causes. His estranged mother, fashion designor Mona Knight of 'Knight's Night Wear', had nanny's to raise him and always gave him anything his heart desired.

When he was nineteen, instead of going to Trinity College in Dublin, he decided it would be a better idea to open a bookstore on Henry's Street. That's where we see our protagonist first. He is in the midst of arguing with his girlfriend.

updated May 3 '10 by allifirefly