Based on a true nightmare of mine
J. Marvin Ramoda
Sweat is gushing. My chest is pumping… as I stare blankly through my room engulf with darkness after I woke up from an odd and horrible dream. I enquire within myself… what kind of emotion I have that subconsciously created that kind of dream. It’s totally different from the dream I have since I was a child – as far as I could recall. I don’t mean to try to interpret it. But… it is mysterious. It’s odd.
On that dream – the only pieces that I could remember – I’m walking with some companion, perhaps of four, from somewhere and we’re strolling on a slightly steep and broad cemented street. Houses were pitched by the road, big and small. Some are wooden, some are built in complete stone. While walking straight and slow with my head tilt down, my companion picked my attention as they stop at the front of wooden 2 storey house, painted with chocolate brown. Its texture and colour could tell you that it’s an old house, erected maybe in 1960’s. A unique thing in this house is its window. It’s an aquarium like front wall made of glass that you could see through what’s inside. Yes! We saw what was inside. We were shortly entertained from what we saw through its window.
Old folks were playing rock music with their electric guitar as if they have a concert and we were their audiences. The sound was so familiar, yet, I couldn’t name it. The person that catch my attention, in whom I could still vividly see with my mind eye up until now, is bald, wrinkled forehead and wearing black sunglasses. He’s slowly banging his head through the beat of the music. Again, we’re really entertained from it, because, out of nowhere and does not expect it, we’re watching an amateur concert which I’m really fond of.
At the peak of our amusement, to the point that we’re jumping in sync to the beat, I suddenly stop maybe for 4 seconds. I noticed that the inside 2 doors – situated on the back wall which can be seen outside – were open almost simultaneously. What’s came out were guys armed with high powered M-16 rifle. It was aimed to the old musician and his bandmates and they were massacred. Blood sprinkled on the glass window. I shouted in shock “Crime scene! Run!” My chest started to pump triple from its normal. My lungs breathed out icy cold air due to the terror we witnessed. We run straight as fast as we could, but we were block by 12 feet high house wall. We were stunned in 3 secs., thinking where should we go. But as I looked quickly behind, the murderer broke the glass wall and jump to pursue us. They started to aim and fire us. We don’t have any choice, we need to jump and reach it. Adrenaline rush make us reach it. I hear bullets colliding to the walls and whatever it hits.
The roof has two level, I yell to my companion and told him to lie down but he didn’t hear me, I tried to lie down on the first level of the roof to evade the bullets but I’m already seeing them with my peripheral eye. My friend got away. I was left behind. I thought I have nowhere to go. On my left, the guy already made it on the first level roof. Behind, another guy is aiming to kill me. As I check my right, the stainless roofing has square gutter hole. I try to get in with my legs first and I fit. I slid through it down to an open area with some garbage and iron scraps.
I relax a little bit and assume I’m already safe. But the tormenting fear resume to vibrate in me when I hear someone is going down. I rotate my body and look around for hide out or escape way, yet, my legs freeze. My sight is blurry. The only area clear to me is a small cabinet like cubicle with thin sheet steel door corroded with rust. I quickly get in. I suppress myself as tight as possible to be in sharp silence. Even inhale and exhale of air is noise for me. But I know at the back of my mind that I could still be found. I’m standing behind the left side of the door while listening to the slow footstep of my killer. Then I feel he stop outside front of my place. I still remain silent and anticipate what he would do next. He slip through the small opening the beak of his rifle. It is aimed at the opposite side of me and fired ferociously.
I whispered “It must be the end of me, but I must do something”. As the gun tilts towards me, I quickly holds the beak with my two hands. The courage suddenly grows in me to face my ending. And I kick the door and I feel that I bang my feet on the steel small ladder built-in with my double deck bed. Then I saw complete darkness. I thought it’s my grave but, nope, it’s just my room.