"The Fifth Dream” by Alyssa Morrison
I’m almost afraid to tell you this one. You’re definitely going to tell me I’m crazy, which, by now, I guess I can’t pretend isn't true.
I dreamed I was sitting in my living room. It was getting dark outside. There was a storm coming, I could sense it. The sky was turning gray as the clouds rolled in, and the leaves were getting swept up in little whirlwinds in the gutter. The living room was getting dark, but I didn't care. I didn't turn on any lights. I knew they wouldn't work. Everyone was gone. In my dream, I was the last person in the world. I don’t know where everyone else went. It’s not like the streets were littered with vestiges of the apocalypse, they were just empty. I was enjoying being alone, and I was going to enjoy this storm.
When it was too dark in my living room, I had been sitting facing my fire place, I got up and went to the front door. The storm door was cold when I touched it, and my handprint was in the negative space of the condensation when I pulled my hand away. Suddenly, I realized that I shouldn’t be watching the storm from inside. Then I wouldn’t see it very well. I opened the door and stepped outside, barefoot. There was no trash or broken bottles on the street to hurt me. The wind was chilly, but a good, refreshing chilly, and it didn’t feel as strong to me as it looked to be to the leaves. The air smelt and tasted fresher than it ever had before. In the distance, I could hear the rumbling of thunder, but it hadn't started raining above me yet. It smelled like rain, though, the best and purest rain smell ever. I was just standing in the street, waiting for the storm to come when I realized, I would be the only witness to it. When it was all over, I would be the only one who had seen it, and been able to process its significance and power. Nature was putting on a little show, just for me.
Then I saw someone. I don’t remember whether it was a man or a woman, but it was definitely an adult. It was wandering, bemused, down the street, and then it saw me. The thunder was closer now, and the rain was going to start any minute, so when it saw me, it came toward me. It wasn't running, it wasn't in a hurry, but it was walking quickly, like it hadn't seen another person in a while, and was excited to see me.
I was disappointed. I had hoped that I really was the only one left. I didn’t want to share the storm with anyone, so when it got to me and reached out to shake my hand, I grabbed its head and I started to squeeze. It wasn’t like a movie. I didn’t get superhuman strength and break its skull. I just squeezed it’s temples with my thumbs until its eyes rolled back in its head. That, I remember vividly. Strange, isn’t it, what you choose to remember? I couldn't tell you whether this person was a man or a woman, but I distinctly remember the satisfaction for seeing it’s eyes flutter and spin upward, just the whites and the veins and the arteries visible. But I couldn't stop there, no. The storm was coming and I had to know it was dead, so I dug my thumbnails into its skin. The blood didn't spurt when I broke the skin, so I pushed deeper, until I could be sure I had hit an artery. I hit its skull and never got any impressive streams of blood, so it must have been dead already.
My hands looked strange, with blood covering just my thumbs, but the rain would wash that away, so I let it fall. I turned around so I wouldn't have to look at it, and there was a lightning flash and a thunderclap right overhead, and then the rains came, like a spectacular breach in the firmament. I was the only one watching this storm, the only one who could see it. It was mine and I had made it so.
And I know, now, that that’s wrong, and that was a crazy person dream, but in the dream it felt so good.
I’m almost afraid to tell you this one. You’re definitely going to tell me I’m crazy, which, by now, I guess I can’t pretend isn't true.
I dreamed I was sitting in my living room. It was getting dark outside. There was a storm coming, I could sense it. The sky was turning gray as the clouds rolled in, and the leaves were getting swept up in little whirlwinds in the gutter. The living room was getting dark, but I didn't care. I didn't turn on any lights. I knew they wouldn't work. Everyone was gone. In my dream, I was the last person in the world. I don’t know where everyone else went. It’s not like the streets were littered with vestiges of the apocalypse, they were just empty. I was enjoying being alone, and I was going to enjoy this storm.
When it was too dark in my living room, I had been sitting facing my fire place, I got up and went to the front door. The storm door was cold when I touched it, and my handprint was in the negative space of the condensation when I pulled my hand away. Suddenly, I realized that I shouldn’t be watching the storm from inside. Then I wouldn’t see it very well. I opened the door and stepped outside, barefoot. There was no trash or broken bottles on the street to hurt me. The wind was chilly, but a good, refreshing chilly, and it didn’t feel as strong to me as it looked to be to the leaves. The air smelt and tasted fresher than it ever had before. In the distance, I could hear the rumbling of thunder, but it hadn't started raining above me yet. It smelled like rain, though, the best and purest rain smell ever. I was just standing in the street, waiting for the storm to come when I realized, I would be the only witness to it. When it was all over, I would be the only one who had seen it, and been able to process its significance and power. Nature was putting on a little show, just for me.
Then I saw someone. I don’t remember whether it was a man or a woman, but it was definitely an adult. It was wandering, bemused, down the street, and then it saw me. The thunder was closer now, and the rain was going to start any minute, so when it saw me, it came toward me. It wasn't running, it wasn't in a hurry, but it was walking quickly, like it hadn't seen another person in a while, and was excited to see me.
I was disappointed. I had hoped that I really was the only one left. I didn’t want to share the storm with anyone, so when it got to me and reached out to shake my hand, I grabbed its head and I started to squeeze. It wasn’t like a movie. I didn’t get superhuman strength and break its skull. I just squeezed it’s temples with my thumbs until its eyes rolled back in its head. That, I remember vividly. Strange, isn’t it, what you choose to remember? I couldn't tell you whether this person was a man or a woman, but I distinctly remember the satisfaction for seeing it’s eyes flutter and spin upward, just the whites and the veins and the arteries visible. But I couldn't stop there, no. The storm was coming and I had to know it was dead, so I dug my thumbnails into its skin. The blood didn't spurt when I broke the skin, so I pushed deeper, until I could be sure I had hit an artery. I hit its skull and never got any impressive streams of blood, so it must have been dead already.
My hands looked strange, with blood covering just my thumbs, but the rain would wash that away, so I let it fall. I turned around so I wouldn't have to look at it, and there was a lightning flash and a thunderclap right overhead, and then the rains came, like a spectacular breach in the firmament. I was the only one watching this storm, the only one who could see it. It was mine and I had made it so.
And I know, now, that that’s wrong, and that was a crazy person dream, but in the dream it felt so good.