Many people think that dreams are good things; that include fluffy bunnies and shooting stars. That re-draw memories, re-live wonders and create moments in a way, that is vast and distant. Peculiar yet inspiringly interesting. Unreal, but still is there. They are the lucky ones. The ones that dare shut their eyes, the ones without fear.

But the lucky never listen.

Chapter1- Ray Fielding

The shadows slowly descended down onto Melbrew lane as dusk settled upon the world. It was a quiet street with a normal exterior, which included a small park and a local post office at the end. Ray was similar to most boys his age, quite tall, with short, dark, brown hair and nonchalant expression. He lived in a small suburban house with creamy pale walls, on the end of Melbrew lane, next to the post office.

Ray sat in his bedroom watching the street outside dull down into a blur of darkness as the day turned into night and the bright colours faded into the shadow world. He hated this time, when people were at the highest point of vulnerability. He could still remember the restricting feeling of wishing to run, to escape and retire to a place of safety. But finding himself unable, finding himself caught in an inescapable trap of his own mind. He also hated and loathed memories. Forcing him to never forget the pain, fury and misery that had engulfed him during those last few weeks. He would always remember the times of shrill panic and re-live them again in unpleasant dreams. The worst was over but the recovery was only just beginning.

It all started three weeks ago, it had been normal then. Beautiful sunny days ended with peaceful nights and a calm usual presence hanging over the serene atmosphere.

Ray had just turned 13, it had been one of the best days of his life, everything went perfectly (to his parents pleasure) from the cake to the presents and the whole day was perfection. He had got five presents: one from his mum, one from his cousin and three from his best friends Joe, Tina and Matt. Joe, a small longhaired boy who had two brothers (that he hated) had given him a small electronic stereo system that played up to fifty different tunes. Tina, who never really knew what to buy people, gave a small set of pencils and a sketchbook. Matt, who was Ray’s best friend, instead of actually buying him a present had given him £50.00. This had made Ray really happy though because he had been saving up for a laptop for a whole year now and he only needed ten more pounds. He loved the presents his friends had given him; and his friends were one of the best things in his world.

His mum and dad were going to give him his present later in the day, so he would have to wait in anticipation for the next six hours through school. The bell had just gone for the start of break. Everyone in the class rushed to stuff everything in their bags and get out the hot stuffy classroom, into the clear open air outside. Ray quickly packed his bag and moved quietly with the rest of his classmates. Outside the classroom Matt and Joe were already standing waiting for him. Joe smiled as he saw his friend. Joe hardly saw Ray anymore because he got so many detentions at break he couldn’t count them! He was always missing school (without an explanation), forgetting (or just not bothering) to do homework and breaking and bending rules wherever he went. And therefore getting about five detention slips per day. He still had one or two to do, but the teachers he had got them from were away.

People had been getting sick all over the town; they all had the same symptoms. Firstly they were all affected with agoraphobia, and then they started screaming at night and complaining about something attacking them. And finally most of them drove themselves crazy or died of mysterious circumstances. Medics had thought it was some kind of epidemic, and anyone who manifested the symptoms were taken out of work and restricted to their homes. Slowly the symptoms of this so called ‘epidemic’ had been increasing in strength. Everyone in the whole country had heard about the illness and panic was slowly spreading for every person affected, and many people were planning to leave the country or at least flock to the farthest place possible away from the town. Though people who lived on Melbrew lane thought differently.

At the end of Melbrew lane was a steep hill, which loomed over most of the houses of the small suburban town. On top of the hill there was Melbrew mansion. Many people never ventured up there any more. There had been many mysterious happenings at that mansion. It was not only four weeks ago that the caretaker that looked after it had mysteriously died. And the Jones’s family, who lived in the house next to it, had been the first to fall to the forever spreading illness. Melbrew mansion itself though, was a magnificent architectural building; complete with iron gates and stained glass windows showing scenes of wonderful things the mayor of old had done for the town.

Mayor Elliot Melbrew was the first mayor and founder of the town of Haywood. He did many great things for the town, and was held in high regard. When he died his house went to his family. The most Famous descendants of Elliot Melbrew were James and Emily Melbrew. Many people who live in Haywood can still recollect the story from their descendant’s descriptions.

The family gave the house to their little girl. Her name was Jane and her parents loved her dearly. She had a brother called Darren; he was one year older than her. By the time she was seventeen Jane and Darren had created a relationship and by the time they were twenty-one they decided to get married. A few years later they had had two kids. Their parents, James and Emily, hated the fact that their children had developed an incestuous relationship, so they disowned them. This enraged Darren and Jane so much that one night they arrived at their parent’s door and horrifically killed them relishing the fact that justice had been done.

Since the passing of this family no one ever went near to the house except the caretaker.

Some people had wondered where the couple had actually gone, for the police and the government covered their moving up. But for many they were too weird for the neighbourhood and it was better that they had gone. So many forgot the tale and thought nothing else of it. How ignorant people can be.

Chapter 2-Ray’s Life at Melbrew Lane.

“Hi mate,” said Joe reaching out his hand to shake his.

“Yes, hello how are you doing my good friend?” said Matt looking up from his notes from class.

Ray shook Joe’s hand, “ hey, I’m fine thanks” he answered “ after school you’ve got to come to my house” he said excitedly, “Dad said he’s got me the best present ever and I want you to see it!” he explained.

“Love to mate, but err can’t, mum says I’ve got to go straight home sorry.” Explained Joe looking down. He hated being stuck to a time limit he wished he could be like other kids and stay out till eleven o’clock playing football in the park.

“And I cannot I am sorry” said Matt “I have got to do some more research on the complexity of plant structures and why they are as intricate as they are” Matt would do anything to learn new things. And would forever be finding statistics and gathering information. He thought of it as a kind of sport, and sometimes would do extra homework to try and impress the teacher.

Upset that his friends couldn’t come he tried to put it behind him and went outside for break with Matt and Joe.

The day went on rather slowly. The clock seemed to never change and seemed to always be stuck in one place, which was extremely annoying to Ray, for he wanted to get home as quickly as possible.

Finally the school bell went signifying the end of the school day. The whole of Ray’s class rushed out the door to get as home as quickly as they could.

It took Ray fifteen minutes to get home; he went on the schools’ minibus. The driver was a small, podgy man, with a distinct double chin and short, badly cut hair that only just brushed the top of his ears. The only problem with him driving a minibus is that he couldn’t actually drive. And taking some children home on a bus that you can’t drive was no easy matter for him. After a potentially treacherous journey Ray got out on his stop and slowly walked home. Melbrew Lane was an impressive neighbourhood. Most home owners who lived there were either rich or pretending to be. Houses in Ray’s part of the street were particularly impressive. Each one was enhanced with stained glass windows, a massive garden and front drive. Every house was perfect and different in it’s own way.

Once at home Ray’s parents continued to tease him by making him have tea before he got to open his present. It was a large box covered with bright blue wrapping paper with white stripes running down the sides. It towered over the fridge and cooker and it only just fit in through the kitchen door. There seemed to be a certain aurora about it as it stood in the room. Ray stared at it in awe as it loomed ahead of him.

Finally after what seemed several hours eating, Ray got to his present.

“Happy birthday Ray” said him mum as she beamed down at him.

Ray grasped at the wrapping paper, and tore it as quickly as he could. Bits of tattered paper flew everywhere and there it was, the thing that he’d been thinking about all day.

Ray was a collector. He collected anything from newspaper articles to model cars and aeroplanes. But his most vast and beloved hobby was to collect old artefacts; he loved anything to do with his town’s history. He had everything including: coins from an ancient roman colony that lived in the area nearly 500 years ago, battle helmets, skulls and old fashioned documents and letters, that had come from Melbrew mansion itself! But the types of historian artefacts he was particularly interested in were clocks. He had all sorts, small ones, big ones, skinny ones, fat ones, and he loved every single one of them. But there was one that he didn’t have.

Melbrew manor had been empty for the last few years, after the last owners were mysteriously taken away. The main house, over time, had become derelict, and the objects in the house had recently been put up for sale. If you’d have entered the glorious mansion when it was in it’s splendour, you would have seen a wide, beautiful entrance hall, which was adorned with gold that shone like the morning sunrise. Either side of the famous hall there were grand staircases dressed with silver ribbons and fancy wooden decorations. At the top of the staircases there was a landing leading to many different corridors. This landing was nothing special. It had a small window to let the morning light in but otherwise there wasn’t much use for it. To make it more fancy and impressive, Mrs Melbrew had decided to get a beautiful grandfather clock made. This particular clock showed gory pictures of death and destruction being decimated by an almighty presence. It contained deep grooves in the fine mahogany surface, depicting the scene of dispute glory. Many loved the clock and longed it to be their own. When the Melbrews disappeared, it went with most of the other objects in the house, many searched for it desperately but none prevailed to find it.

Objects can hold secrets as well as fears and hopes. Living in fantasy and not reality can be fatal things to behold.

Chapter 3– The birthday present.

Ray stared at the beautiful carvings of the clock that stood before him. He slowly ran his fingers over the intricate carvings feeling a warming sensation in the depths of his heart. The Melbrew mansions’ clock. How people had searched for this far and wide, it had been the subject of people’s wonders, and it was just there, in his house, for real! Ray was speechless as he stood and stared at the wonderful masterpiece, seeing the carvings that depict the infamous scene of massacre. He wished not to move, not to think. He wished to stand there forever, examining every line of the intricate design. To decipher the stories that lay within the astounding creation.

Ray’s mother came over and started to stroke the back of his head. “Do you like it Sweetie?” she said staring lovingly at her little boy.

Ray looked up at his mother, smiled and said, “It’s perfect.”

That night Ray’s dad moved the clock into the living room, next to the velvet rug that lined the floor. It looked magnificent stood next to the fireplace; the embers of the firelight gave it a magical entrancing effect. But there was something not quite right. Something that Ray had forgotten to do.

“ Bedtime darling” whispered his mum, softly in his ear kissing him lightly on the forehead, and ruffling his hair up.

Still staring up at the clock in admiration Ray got up and walked over to the door, he took one more glance at it, sighed and left to get ready for bed.

As he climbed the stairs an eerie presence came over him, a kind of wanting to see his treasured belonging again. He ignored the feeling by reassuring himself that he’d see it again tomorrow. Ray mindlessly wandered into the bathroom. He took off his school uniform and hung his blazer and tie in the cupboard for morning. He slowly turned on the taps; he stepped into the shower and shivered as the cold water ran down his body. His mind still transfixed with the smooth indentations in the wood, he had to keep forever reassuring himself that he would be able to view his desire again. He was feeling an obsessive need to constantly watch and stare at his newfound piece of wondrous beauty. A kind of conscious longing, wanting locked in his mind, like an internal parasite that refuses to be unnoticed. He grabbed a towel scrubbed himself dry and put on his pyjamas.

It was a cold night and the rain pattered on the window, causing a quiet, calming, rhythmic tune that echoed through the silent room. Ray found it hard to sleep. He felt incomplete, like something was dragging and wearing him down. He lay on his back watching the moonlight make reflections on the ceiling. It appeared to be encouraging him to go to sleep. Little white lights floated around the room as cars drove past the lamplight outside. Ray slowly closed his eyes in a desperate attempt to fall into a relaxing and sound dream. The world outside seemed to dull down into a distant murmur. The nighttime sights and sounds relaxed into a low moan and slowly disappeared. And everything went black, silent and peaceful. As ray fell into the world of dreams, nightmares and wonder. Seemingly serene, but not all things are, as they seem.

Chapter 4 –Dreams and reality.

Darkness can confuse the mind, engage and trap unsuspecting victims, into an imaginary world, engages the weak and destroys the strong. Many things can happen in dreams. A way for some, to explore the depths of their imagination, to search their souls and be in any circumstance, that they desire. A place that is accessible and escapable. A way to find tranquillity, adventure, even death. But by the end, be able to awaken and get along with normal life, a content life, without flaws, without danger. A passing between worlds, of darkness and light. A well thought journey.

Something was there. He didn’t know where or why. Just that something was staring at him from the shadows. It made Ray’s skin crawl, looked at every part of his room, from the corner of his eye he spotted something. Quickly, he glanced in the direction. Nothing was there. His heart was beating faster and faster, panic struck his very soul, he pushed his body further into the duvet. Pushing his head under the covers. This made him relax slightly, as he felt the reassuring warmth of the restricting space. The air was running out swiftly. Though he knew he would have to lift the edge of his safety up to get air, he tried to delay the procedure. The air got hot and ray found it harder to breathe. Nothing had happened for the last five minutes. Maybe it was just a figment of his imagination.

Ray was ready whatever was up there he would take it by force. The air was getting thin by now and breathing was almost impossible. Ray took one final breath in and as quickly as he dared, sat up. Fresh air rushed into his lungs, it tasted sweet, and refreshing. Half savouring the moment and half terrified, Ray closed his eyes taking in the rejuvenating moment. Then suddenly, a sharp pain hit the back of his neck. The stinging made his eyes water, and he shot his hands to his neck. A deep cut had penetrated the skin and blood trickled down his hands. His pillow and duvet were drenched with blood and the whole room turned red. He shrieked in pain and horror as he felt the hot gash in his neck, the pain overwhelmed him, and he could hardly see through the white light that blinded him. He started to get weak, he couldn’t move so he lay in a pool of his own blood, his skin was covered, and his mouth was slowly filling with the vile liquid of death. Choking him, suffocating him, blinding him, this pain was unbearable, and he continued to struggle for his very existence and continued life. The throbbing of his neck had become intense. Ray forced his eyes open just to see a sharp cleaver forced into his stomach.

Ray woke up in a cold sweat, his duvet was drenched, and his whole body was shaking uncontrollably. Ray scrambled with his collar as he tried to get to his neck. He felt in relief though to find smooth complete skin, no marks, no scratches, and no awful deep gouge. He took a deep breath, and sighed trying to calm himself down. His heart was beating so fast, he could only just breathe. Tears streamed down his face as he tried to stop imagining the cold, sharp blade penetrating the back of his neck: and from being forced into his stomach. He tried to forget the warmth of his blood, slowly rubbing his neck to reassure himself that it was all just a nightmare. He laid back down in the Suffocating darkness, and crying fell into a once again uncomfortable sleep

Morning slowly came. A thick fog hung over the world like a blanket, enabling little sight and creating a heavy atmosphere that covered the land. Everything was quiet, no birds were singing, no cars driving around on the roads, and no people walking on the empty streets. The light from outside shone through the half open curtains, leaving a thin trail of shaded light on the carpet. Ray had been lying on his back since 5:00 am. He stared at the ceiling above him. The swirls of flickering light seemed to dance, reminding him further of the night before. He’d never felt as scared as that before. There was no need to have been. Ray sighed and closed his eyes, trying to calm himself down, he felt sick; a swelling feeling of nausea came down on him, like a wave of dread, which sickens the mind. He tried to reassure himself that it was all a dream, just a horrible nightmare that would never be real, and was probably just a result of watching too many horror films.

Ray reopened his eyes, and rolled over to enable him to see the clock on his bedside table. This particular clock was made of solid oak, with a few fancy decorations of small elf-like creatures sitting in a wood. He had purchased it for his 7th birthday from a small convenience store. As he checked the time he saw something was wrong. The decorations on the clock had turned into a sickly red substance that looked like dried blood. Then Rays eyes fell to the carpet, thick splodges of the oozy liquid had appeared in separate areas leading to the door. As if something had taken a dripping object as they were walking. Ray got up slowly; he examined the dense red marks that stained his floor. He followed the marks, noticing the shape and colour that led him to his door. Curiosity grasping his heart Ray followed the mysterious marks further.

Opening the door, he saw that the marks proceeded to go downstairs. Ray nervously looked around him, as he went from room to room, checking for anything unusual. The marks led through the hall and into the living room. Then they stopped. The last one was situated halfway between the fireplace and his beautiful new present that his dad had placed there the night before. Curiosity had overtaken him thoroughly now, although he was scared, he couldn’t stop thinking about the mysteries that had taken event throughout last night. How he wished that it had all never happened. Ray let out a sigh shutting his eyes in misery.

A soft reassuring hand fell upon his shoulder, it felt warm and seemed to calm him.

The grip was quite secure, yet pleasant, soothing and enlightening him, dragging his soul out of the hell fires of misery. The feeling seemed to spread throughout his whole body, a kind of self-confidence, self-belief and strength. Ray took a deep breath filling his lungs with fresh air, awakening himself and getting himself ready for, what he wished would be, a normal day. He slowly re-opened his eyes and turned around to see the source of this newfound strength. Yet he found nothing there just his living room with its dark green walls, with gold and silver patterns that shone in the morning sun. Nothing that could’ve even touched his shoulder. He glanced down to the floor but once again nothing was there. No oozing marks, no red stains or anything there, just a light green carpet. Ray shook his head; it was all just a figment of his imagination. It was all just one nightmare, it wasn’t real and nothing could hurt him. Taking several deep breaths and nervously laughing at his own stupidity, Ray eventually left the living room and climbed the stairs. He let go of any thoughts, so he could live in peace. For it was his imagination, his own mind that insisted on tormenting him. So he would just ignore his feelings and focus on the only thing that let him carry on. The only words that would let him climb the stairs and get dressed ready for the day ahead “It was all a dream.”

Though this seems a good idea at the time, just to let the world go and forget what is going on around you in a desperate clasp at normality and peace. To let go of your mind, imagination, creativity, beliefs and your whole being, is a bad idea. The whole world can bore down on you; crush you into a ball of self-pity. People can turn and leave your side. But the only one who can support you in these times is yourself. To let your own mind go is dangerous, you are vulnerable without your own support. If things are ignored they can grow, rear, and attack. If things are ignored the ones around you are not the only things that can turn against you.

Chapter 5 -Ignorance is bliss – But does it make the world right.

Ray got some plates out for breakfast as quietly as he could. He didn’t want to wake his mum up; this simple gesture was all he could think of to make her day special. He wanted to feel loved again, after his experience of dread all he needed were warm arms wrapped around him in a loving comfort, to calm him. Her got eight slices of bread out from the breadbasket, and put them into the toaster, and got the butter from the fridge. After a couple of minutes the sweet smell of warming bread was surrounding the kitchen. Ray put the toast on the plate and buttered it, and then he placed it on the table. Pleased with his work Ray, as quietly as he could, made his way to his mum’s room.

His mum’s room was slightly bigger than his, it had pink walls, and it was bordered with painted symbols representing ancient relics. Each was painted with care, by a professional artist, containing colours of gold and deep purple. Ray slowly opened the wooden door with its cold metal handle. A thin line of light appeared from the door, as he opened it, Ray smiled as he imagined his mum’s happiness when she saw his present as such. He peered around the door, but there was no one there. A note lay on the bed, written in neat scripted handwriting. An unhappy blanket wrapped itself around Ray’s heart, as he looked at the note. He picked it up, and read it:

Dear Ray,

I’m going for a meeting this morning, it was short notice I’m sorry. There’s some dinner in the fridge, for when you get home from school, I’ll get home around about 9.00 tonight.

Love you, mum xx.

Anger spread through Ray’s mind. He’d took all this effort, and what for nothing. The anger intensified as he left the room. He went back downstairs and chucked the toast he’d just made into the bin. He wasn’t hungry now, he was too angry to eat. He didn’t really mind that his mum had to go out, the thing that made him so angry was that he could not get that feeling he wanted. He longed for someone to tell him it was aright, that everything was going to be ok. He wanted to be his usual relaxed self, that didn’t care about the world, the one that went through life, day by day, not worrying about anything, not caring. He went upstairs again feeling his breaths getting quicker and his actions more aggressive. He forced his clothes on for school and got his bag ready. He repented his anger, but he couldn’t help it, a kind of fury had arisen through his mind and he couldn’t let it go. He grabbed his key, left the house, and locked the door behind him.

The dark atmosphere and dull fog didn’t help the way Ray felt. The pavement was a miserable grey because it had been raining during the night. The air stank of wetness, mixed with petrol that was leaking out of someone’s car. It was a miserable walk to the bus stop. Once there he had to wait a whole forty minutes before the bus got there! It pulled up by the kerb, and someone, from year ten opened the door. Ray bowed his head and proceeded into the vehicle. Ray took his ticket out of his top pocket, and reached it out to the driver, taking the seat behind him.

“Thank you Ray” said the driver, in an army-like voice (that for some reason he always used with everybody, even though he had no army training whatsoever!) And he handed back the ticket. The bus was small, with few seats and stiff windows. Everyone was quiet; the only sound was that of the radio (which was always set on the same channel) playing the most unfashionable music. Ray rested his head on the cold, misty window, watching the blurry colours move behind the condensed glass. The journey took about five minutes, before they reached the school gates. And there stood by the school sign was the first thing in that day that made Ray smile. Joe and Matt stood in the mist waiting for Ray’s bus to get there. They waved at him as the bus passed down to its parking space next to the main school building. When the bus had stopped Ray got out the bus and as quick as possible he went to meet his friends. He didn’t say anything about his nightmare; he wanted just to forget about it.

The day went (To ray’s delight) as normally as it ever had. Out of all the people he knew Joe was the one who could cheer him up, he’d known him since primary school and they had never fallen out. Matt on the other hand in the past had become annoying, and he often went off to do his own thing, and left Ray on his own for several days at a time. Melbrew high was a small school, it had few students and many of them didn’t turn up. The school was situated on the right hand side of Melbrew lane and Melbrew house could be easily seen. The rumour of Melbrew house was well known by the students of Melbrew high, for the headmaster was very superstitious. The school day seemed to go very slowly and Ray was bored throughout most of it. When it finally did get to lunch, Ray, Joe and Matt went outside to find a spot that was as dry as possible.

“Wanna go for a bike ride down the park after school Ray?” asked Joe. Turning his head to face Ray. There was no point him asking Matt, for firstly he didn’t have a bike, and secondly he never went out anywhere.

“Yeah alright” answered Ray not really sure on whether he wanted to go or not. Being with Joe was good, and his bike rides were on the whole enjoyable. The only thing that Ray didn’t like about them was that Joe’s other friends came too. Joe’s friends were rowdy and were usually the reason for Joe getting into trouble all the time. There were five of them, and they were all in year nine, with Joe and Tina. “ Is Tina coming?” asked Ray hoping the answer would be yes. He loved it when Tina came, just incase Joe had planned to meet his mates, then Ray would usually walk home with Tina, (rather than be with the year nines).

“Nope sorry, she’s going out with jess and Stacy today” Answered Joe, looking at his friend a little disappointedly. Joe knew how much Ray didn’t like his friends though he hated it, he knew they could be rowdy sometimes, but they were a good laugh, if only Ray would see that.

The rest of break was kind of quiet, and the dull, gloomy feeling was creeping back into Ray’s mind. He tried to ignore it the best he could, but it just wouldn’t go away. The bell went for the end of break, and everyone slowly wandered back into their classes. At the end of the day Joe said that he’d come to Ray’s house at five o’clock, giving him an hour to get ready. The mist had cleared up as the day passed, and there were small grey clouds in the sky. The ride home after school was a quick one, for many people had been away from work, in a strike. Again as usual no one spoke and the journey was very quiet. Ray got off at his stop and walked home. He didn’t really take much notice of the eerie silence that hung over the neighbourhood, or the surrounding atmosphere that pressured the world into silence.

Ray unlocked the front door and entered his house. Slinging his bag down near the door, he made his way to his bedroom for a change of clothes. He chose a skater t-shirt and some jeans out of his cupboard, and took them to the bathroom to change.

He took his school shirt off, along with his trousers and threw them onto the washing pile. As he was putting on his shirt, he felt a shiver down his back. It was ice-cold and sent a sense of panic through his soul. It felt like the temperature of death, cold and hard. Like a clawed finger was running down his spine. As if it was the finger of the ice devil. He turned around to find that the window was slightly ajar. A swift freezing draft was wafting through the gap, coming from the misty, cold world outside. Ray sighed and shut the window, the hinges were stiff and he had to force it, but he got it shut, threw on his jeans and left the bathroom.

There was no heating on and the air had turned cold. The mist seemed to surround the house. Ray hated the cold it was creepy. He had to wait a whole fifty minutes before Joe was due to arrive. Ray sat on the sofa waiting. He glanced at the fireplace as he sat in the chilly room. His mum had always said to never try and light the fire; she had said that it was dangerous, that he should never even try to. Ray knew the danger of fire; he had done it in school. He knew all the safety precautions. Yet the Matches were looking very tempting. His eyes kept flicking between the fire and the matches; it was like something was controlling his mind. He would never usually go against his mum’s word, but he was so cold. The hairs on his arms and neck were standing on end, his eyes started to dart unwillingly around the room. Ray lay his head between his hands and shut his eyes, he wanted it to stop, whatever was happening to him, he wanted it to all go away, to disappear. He hated what his mind was insisting on doing to him. He blamed himself for everything; there was no peace anymore. The whole world had turned against him; the whole of reality had collapsed into itself. No matter how he tried to forget, the feeling still existed. That’s when he decided. He decided he wasn’t going to care anymore; he would walk out the front door a changed person. The old Ray Fielding, for the rest of this day, would be banished, he would walk out that door to meet Joe and he would take whatever life threw at him.

Ray lifted his head, and stared at the wall next to his clock. Then he looked at the time, it said twelve o’clock midnight. Hey he thought that wasn’t right! He glanced at his own watch on his wrist; it was twenty to five! That was it, that was the emptiness he had felt that night! Ray knew he had forgotten something. He laughed, a kind of maddened laughter that swelled up from his throat. Yet inside he was screaming. He could feel that same presence within him; something spreading throughout his body, a terrible wreck when he blinked all he could see were two evil red eyes staring back at him, engulfing him, taking control. He shook it off and walked over to the clock. There seemed to be a peace about it as it stood there in front of him. It seemed to calm him, take away the pain of existence. All pain and suffering Ray had felt throughout that day, and that horrible night diminished out of his mind.

Ray reached out and opened the compartment showing all of the mechanisms inside. A small pin had forcefully been jammed into the mechanisms to stop them from working. ‘The removal workers must have put it there to protect it’ Ray thought to himself as he reached out his right hand to take the pin out of the woodwork. The metal pin had been forcefully pushed into the wood itself, leaving indentations in the back of the clock Ray grabbed hold of the pin and pulled it, making sure he caused as little damage to the wood as possible. It wouldn’t budge! Ray took hold of the pin with both hands, trying to prise it out, but it still wouldn’t move. As a last attempt Ray put his feet against the clock base, grabbed the pin with both hands, and pulled with all his strength. The pin came out with a crack as it splintered the back of the woodwork. Ray flew back onto the sofa, as the clock started to strike signifying that it was working. The chimes were mystical and sent shivers down Ray’s spine.

Ray looked at the clock; on the bottom of the face there were small numbers. They started to roll, making a clicking sound that proceeded to move faster and faster. Each number that flicked by made a clicking sound like a train travelling down the track at full speed. The sound seemed to go on for ages, and the longer it stayed, the louder and more frequent it got. Ray had to cover his ears as the intense clicking drove itself into his mind, it made his head hurt and his heart started to beat faster. Then it stopped. Silence filled the room again and the afternoon returned to normal.

Ray lay in front of the sofa in an uncomfortable position his head had been awkwardly angled to it’s side on the edge of the wooden frame, his neck an head stung making his eyes water. He wiped his eyes and started 2 massage his head, trying to make the pain go away. He slowly dragged himself back onto his feet, and grumpily stomped upstairs.

At that point ray was blissfully unaware of what he had just done to his world, his life. He didn’t ask any questions, such as for the real reason why was there a pin jammed deeply into the woodwork; or why the chimes were explicitly loud, though the neighbours and passers-by didn’t hear a thing. Ignoring these kinds of questions, and banishing them from your present mind can be easy, Ignorance can be bliss if you’re in the right mind set. But not all things that feel right are the best options.

Chapter 6-The Silent Dreamer

Joe was late. This angered Ray more, and he kept, almost obsessively, ringing his mobile to try and see where he had got. It was getting very late and the moon was shining through a slit in the certains. As it got later and later, Ray realised how hopeless it would be to keep attempting contact with Joe, and decided to ring his home phone instead. Pressing the numbers into the dialler, he moved the handset up to his ear and listened to the monotone beeps as it was ringing. The ringing stopped as someone answered Ray’s call. “Hello, Joe’s mum this is…” said Ray but as he spoke he heard screaming and panted breaths, on the other end of the line. The screaming got loader and more frequent, as if someone was being tortured. The screams were preceded by sobs, from a different part of the room. There was also an array of shouting. Panicked shouting, that was mixed and quietened down by the other sounds accumulating around the room. Ray could hear a wide mix of sounds; he couldn’t make out any words that were being said. Just an array of screams that scared him, his heart started to beat faster as a feeling of panic filled his consciousness.

Ray’s hand trembled as he heard the panicked happenings of Joe’s house. It all got too much. The screams were filling ray’s head. He was trapped. Slinging down the handset and burying his head into the pillows of the sofa, Ray hid himself from the world. The wild frightened screams accumulated around and around his head. It frightened him so his whole body shook. He wished to ring again. Maybe he had got the wrong number. Maybe the horrific terror was not happening to his one true friend.

Ray slowly lifted his head and glanced back up to the phone that sat upon the wooden stand. He jumped as it started to ring. Ray stared at it and slowly lifted his hand to the handset. Picking it up, he lifted it to his ear and held his breath, hoping the screams wouldn’t re-emerge. The silence seemed to drag on for ages. Then almost suddenly an eerie rasping voice echoed through the speaker on the phones handset. Saying three words. Three words; haunting Ray for the rest of his living days. “Ray Must die”. The words echoed around Ray’s head. He slung down the receiver but he could still hear voice in his mind.

The grandfather clock stood by the fire. The flames flickered in the fireplace. Ray sat in silence staring into the flames. His heart stood frozen as he entered a state of shock. The only things he heard was the echoing voice merged with a constant ticking. The ticking got louder and louder, the noises became more defined developing slowly, the voice mixing with the ticks making them words themselves. Recognisable words. They spoke to Ray, his frozen body unable to do anything else but listen; he took them in. They whispered to him and took control of his soul. He got up and shuffled into the kitchen. His hand clasped the drawer handle pulling it out. Ray’s hand slowly shook as he reached out for the carving knife. And the clock stopped.

Ray’s mother Christine came in late from work. She had worried about Ray but she kept reminding herself that he was old enough now to stay home on his own for a couple of hours after school. She placed her handbag by the door and called upstairs “Ray I’m home”. Having received no answer she started to walk to the stairway to look for him. Though as she started walking, she suddenly stopped. She noticed a rank smell of rotting flesh was filling the hallway. Confused Christine followed the smell to try and find it’s origin. Her nose led her to the kitchen where her eyes met a terrible sight.

The whole town gossiped about it for ages. Many left the town in horror. The papers quickly lapped up the story, the story that hit the headlines. The story that read:

A woman was arrested today for killing her own son in a brutal struggle. The boy was found with a vicious stab wound penetrating the back of his neck. The woman states that she did not commit this terrible crime, yet her fingerprints were found all over the victim’s wound.

No one ever knew the true reason of death for Ray fielding. Nobody found out about how he thought he’d heard the brutal murder of his best friend. Nobody knew of the terrible evil power of the clock of Melbrew mansion. All they saw were the vicious stab wound that had pierced the young boy. The deep cut on the back of his neck; and the flowing blood staining the kitchen floor to a deep red. No one knew about the dream. The dream that ray had had. That fore-sore his death.

Many people think that dreams are good things; that include fluffy bunnies and shooting stars. That re-draw memories, re-live wonders and create moments in a way, that is vast and distant. Peculiar yet inspiringly interesting. Unreal, but still is there. They are the lucky ones. The ones that dare shut their eyes, the ones without fear.

But the lucky never listen when dreams are a warning.