What Dreams May Come

Fire: as bright as the sun and hotter than hell. 

 Alive and breathing. 

 Consuming and sprawling. 

 The scorching heat surrounded him as wisps of fire crawled through the edges of his vision. Tears stung his eyes as he suffocated on clouds of smoke from the burning wood. Only a momentary parting of the black clouds in front of him allowed him to see he was at the end of a hallway. 

The snaps, pops and roaring of the flames surrounded him. At another parting of the smoke he caught a glimpse of a figure on the other side. He bleared through the black veil, holding his arm over his mouth to keep from gagging. The figure was closer now and the shape of a woman appeared through the gaps. The fire illuminated her statue like features.

The flames flared tall and bright, blinding him. He stepped back and tripped over something. He expected to hit the floor but felt himself being held now, as if he was a small infant nestled against soft skin and warm arms. 

 Ashes struck his face and smoke moved up his nostrils choking him. Clutching at the one that held him, wild fear overtook him as he struggled to breathe. Then a horrible sizzling sound rose up as agonizing pain seared his flesh. A scream erupted from the deepest parts of his being as he felt the burning of the inferno. 

 He thrashed around trying to get away from the pain but it was no use. Skin and meat melted then dried into a blackened char and a woman’s scream, so shrill and deafening, overthrew his own and speared into his mind. Their two wails crescendoed into a dizzying whirlwind that swept him away into darkness. Numbness. He was no longer screaming. No longer gasping for breath. He guessed he didn’t need to anymore.

Sitting bolt upright, wild eyed, choking, and clutching his chest, his body heaved in long panicked gasps. Then came a sudden lurching in his stomach and he flung his arms out quick, catching hold of something solid. With a small yelp he clung to an edge over a long drop. He kicked and flailed, scrambling to get his body over then crawled towards the center of the roof of his home. 

 The sound of the cool air passed through the trees as he lay there for a long moment breathing heavily. I seriously gotta stop falling asleep up here, he thought, trying to catch his breath. He sat up with a groan and felt the night air breeze by. 

The stars dazzled above him as the clouds surfed underneath them. A hand went to his face as his fingers soothed his cheek. I thought I was over those damned nightmares, he thought scowling. It had been many years indeed since young Sebastien Wilson had “those” nightmares. The ones that were so familiar to him and that always played out the same way. Fire. Choking. Burning. The nightmares that plagued his childhood. And that woman, whoever she was.

The wall of smoke was always too thick to see clearly the face that he knew was there. And he would always end up in this woman’s arms. Feeling the flames move around him as she carried him through it. Mixed with the burning wood he recalled the scent of her perfume. Sweet and loving. It was one of flowers, he knew that much and there were many times after school he would walk into a botanical shop and pick through their inventory trying to place that particular smell with an exact name.

One day he did. He was walking down an aisle, his hand running over petals and stems when it hit his senses and he came to a dead stop. He followed the scent as best he could down the shelves until he rounded the corner and his eyes immediately caught them. Purple and white clusters of small petals attached to long stems reaching up to embrace the sunlight. Standing in front of them he put his face into the bundles of the flower and inhaled deep. He pulled away with wide eyes and looked at the tags on the stems. Lilacs. Stunned and thrilled at having finally found the source of this pleasant scent he grabbed a couple of the flowers, stuffed them into his pocket and walked out of the store grinning. His elation didn’t last long, though. A peculiar stir of terror shuddered through his body as he realized that his nightmare had just become that much more real.

And there was another fragrance he recalled from being held in the arms of this woman, who’s embrace was so familiar to him. A fragrance that reminded him of wet cement or stone drying in the heat of the sun. One that, when he was younger, would induce dread in him when the first drops of rain began to fall. Sebastien would often run out of the rain. The drops feeling like acid on his skin as the memory of the searing pain would send him into utter panic. It took a long time for him to get over this phobia. The dream was especially vivid one night during a storm and even when he woke up he could not dispel the sensation of fire on his flesh. So he ran outside and was surprised to feel the water cool his body and soothe his mind. He danced in the rain that night.

These terrible dreams sieged his mind almost every night before he turned ten. Every night then turned into a few times a month, to a couple times a year then, in time, full years without relapse. Sebastien was sixteen now, a junior in high school and a striving academic. The tormenting impression of the inferno and the echo of the woman's screams had fallen to the deepest parts of his memory. Until tonight.

Sitting there on the roof of his home, he tried to quell the sheer terror inside him as he shook from the phantom pain of being burned alive. It's always so vivid, he thought. He held his hand up and placed it against the sky, fingers spread. His pale skin practically glowed in the moonlight. He imagined the skin melted and charred. A tingling sensation spread from his fingertips up his arm. So vivid.

His hand fell to his lap as the sound of dogs barking echoed from a distance a few blocks over. The wind had picked up and the trees danced with increased vigor. Sebastiens back straightened as it seemed a wave of hysteria was spreading through the neighborhood. 

 One block after another dogs were barking madly and violently as if every one of their masters houses was being invaded. He could almost visualize the wave as the little hill his house was on gave him a peek at the roof tops of the other houses. His head swiveled from right to left as he tracked the sweeping flood of barks and howls. A look of confusion etched on his face as he heard dogs slam against their fences wildly and the hairs on his neck stood up as he realized they were not only getting louder, but closer. As if this unseen chaos was crawling in his direction. He sat there in silent wonder as a slight uneasiness trickled through him. The dogs just at the end of his street were thrashing against their chains now. Moving to the edge of the roof to peer down the road, he gripped tight and leaned half off the edge. 

 He could see the road stretch on; streetlamps illuminated the bottoms of the trees and lawns of the houses. The road ended in darkness, and he couldn’t see much farther than a couple blocks. The sweeping madness drew closer. His body tensed as he saw something. A blur of movement coming from the darkness streaked towards one of the houses. He blinked his eyes into focus. The cold wind hit his face as he strained to see. And then... silence. As quickly as it had formed, the combined cries of the neighborhood animals died out. Only a few scattered barks here and there could be heard but for the most part it was quiet again.

Sebastien sat at the edge of the roof bewildered. What the hell was that ab- he began before a sudden chirping sound erupted from his pants. He shrieked and nearly fell off again barely catching the edge as a bolt of fear shot through him. Crawling towards the center once more, he tried to calm his breathing as adrenaline pounded his heart. Last time I come up here, I swear. He sat down, composing himself before pulling his phone out of his pocket. The light of the screen on his face contrasted with the darkness of the sky. He poked at the notification, bringing it up to view. 

 A message from Marty. “Wuzup u redy??” the message read. “For??” Sebastion sent. A cold gust of wind blew over his head and he pulled his sweater hood up. Another chirp from his phone. He flicked the screen on. “Dianas partyy duhhh!” Marty replied.

A sigh escaped Sebastien as he flicked the screen off and looked up at the stars. They looked quite marvelous tonight. The crisp night air outlined the moonlight clearly over the passing clouds, the little orbs of light twinkling around and through them. His brow furrowed as a peculiar sense of uneasiness washed over him. It was a familiar feeling. The kind one gets when they know they are no longer alone. The kind one gets when they’re being watched. His head swiveled around towards the rooftops, sweeping his eyes over them. Then he heard a strange sound, a slight scraping of the shingles from the roof of the house behind him. He turned around quick and saw only the line of the rooftop against a backdrop of stars. He stared a moment, completely still, before two more chirps from his phone spiked his heart rate again.

He brought his phone up and saw a message of a single question mark; followed by another with a series of question marks. “Not really feelin it tonight” Sebastien sent. An immediate chirp sounded as Marty replied with half a paragraph of question marks. “What do you mean your not feelin it??” Marty sent followed by “dude, Diana INVITED US... DIANA.” Sebastien read the message, a look of slight frustration on his face.  “Well she invited me..but I got a history exam in a couple days and a lot of catching up to do.” he replied. Another moment passed and Sebastien couldn’t shake that odd sense. He looked around again but saw nothing. Chirp. He looked down at the screen. “Well I mean I was right there and she probably would have if Lionels jackass hadn’t cramped the mood, hes lucky I didn’t swing on him.” the message read. Sebastien snorted and typed away. “He smacked the shake from your hand, dumped your backpack out and tossed it down the hall.” “AND HES LUCKY I DIDN”T SWING ON HIM>.” Marty replied almost instantly. Sebastien shook his head with a slight smirk. “I saw you tear up” he sent. A long moment passed before the next message. “IRRELEVANT. Ill be there in an hour, be ready.” Sebastien scowled at his phone. “Im not going” he sent. Putting the phone in his pocket he stood up and stretched. 

 He walked toward the corner of the roof that would let him back in the house. The moon shone on the windows of the house next to him, highlighting the roof of the house on the other side. Sebastien looked at one of the windows and stopped, paralyzed. 

 The reflection of the roof behind him was covered with moonlight and on its summit was a dark figure. 

 He leaned in, his eyes slowly widening. There, in the reflection, stood someone on the other roof looking at him. His heart leapt out of his chest as he whirled around and saw...nothing. His eyes scanned the rooftop and then went back to the window. Nothing. Just the image of the moon and stars over the empty roof, the striations of the glass giving it the look of a messy portrait. More dogs barked in the distance. He took in a deep breath and let it out slow. 

 Probably the neighbors, he thought, resuming his walk to the ledge. The chill never left his bones when he got there. The neighbors? Poor Mrs. Agnes was almost seventy years old and lived alone. Panic began to pump through his veins again. There’s no way she’d be able to... he jumped as his pocket gave another chirp. Pulling his phone out angrily he read the text. “1 HOUR.” He felt like lobbing his phone across town but stuffed it back inside his pocket. Taking one final look at the moonlit roof top of his neighbor's house, he muttered to himself as he climbed in. “There’s no way.”