Author: the-lovely-anomaly PM
Sweet dreams are made of... these.Rated: Fiction T - English - Drama - Chapters: 10 - Words: 6,199 - Reviews: 26 - Favs: 3 - Follows: 3 - Updated: 10-28-12 - Published: 07-26-12 - id: 3045197
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19 September 2004
I am on a school bus, on my way home, and for some strange reason my 8th Grade Intro to Tech teacher, Mr. Kline, is driving. I am the only student riding, which is bizarre, but oddly enough I don't question it.
Mr. Kline and I never speak. I sit quietly a couple of seats from the front and stare out my window at all the scenery. Occasionally I steal a glance at him, and he catches my eyes in the rear view mirror as though he can feel them. His expression is sinister. It's awkward. Creepy.
Even though I don't see any present danger, I start to get the sense that something is terribly wrong. I can't explain why, but there's this feeling in my gut—a very strong hunch—that something bad is happening, or is about to.
And then, just like that, music begins playing. Out of nowhere. Like a movie soundtrack, and it's spine-chilling. It's slow and gentle (it reminds me of chimes, and maybe it is), but it resembles a tune that would be played in a horror movie during a tense scene. And then I know something's up.
It doesn't take long after "the tune" starts for me to realize that I'm no longer on my way home. The scenery outside my window is unfamiliar. Mr. Kline drives me past old, haunted-looking houses and down back roads that are in desperate need of repair. There are fences with crows on them and I distinctly remember seeing a scarecrow out in a field that looked a little more human than the pumpkin-headed, straw-packed scarecrow one typically sees.
I want to say something to Mr. Kline. I want to ask him where we are, where we're going, when we'll get there, and why he's driving a bus in the first place. But for some reason I can't. I gaze up at him, and he gazes back at me, and I remain silent.
I never get any answers. This is the point at which I wake up. Short, eerie dream.