A short story remembering a dream… or is it a dream?
A Shadow Within By Ami E. Bowen
A fine and gentle breeze caressed the flesh of my face like the fingers of an expert lover, lifting my pale hair and allowing it to fall back again to my shoulders and back in sweeping waves. I stood upon the sand, the glare of the brilliant burning orb overhead piercing my vision as I gazed through slotted eyes at the endless drifting sand all about. My bare toes sifted warm sand between them and I glanced down at my attire. Donned in a white night-gown, long so the hem of torn lace reached my ankles, nearly concealing my small, naked feet. A cloud of humidity passed over me and I looked up again to see the grayness of the skies moving towards me. I noticed something I had not before as I turned my gaze on the sand once more. A doorway had appeared in the air, or rather, the frame of a door had appeared, leaning in midair with nothing about it. I thought that perhaps if I went through it I would end up on the other side of it and nowhere very far away, or around it. I shook my head at this vision, certain that the heat and sun had gotten the best of me, trying to shake his strange and silly hallucination from my sight. The doorway remained. I sighed in weariness and shrugged. Ah, well, if this is how is was to be played....and stepped through the doorway.
Amilia licked her dry lips and stared at herself in the mirror's reflection. Her features were small, wan, and somewhat elvish. From her slanted green eyes to her pert turned up nose, Amilia made a face and could not understand how she could remain so...cute...even with her dark hair loose from the normal pigtails she wore every day. Yet, her looks were not the thing that was bothering her this morning. No, not at all. She ran the hairbrush roughly through her long hair, wincing as several strands of long hair came out of her skull with the stroke, and forced herself to stay calm. It was the seventh dream in as many nights. Amilia's fingers shook as she reached for her tube of cinnamon-pink lipstick and nearly dropped the container on the vanity table. Get a grip, She told herself sternly, disgustedly, It was only a dream....
....doorway leading to...I gazed about and covered my mouth with my hands, determined not to scream...not to cry out...not to...not to...I backed away and ran down a narrow corridor, fleeing from the horrible, terrible sight...the stench of dried...the bodies...so many...so small...eyes wide in innocent fear...such trusting, soulful eyes....even those whose heads held only bleak nothingness, the round eyes having been ripped from them....I ran...my heart pounding a rhythm of fear in my chest, my breath coming in great gasping sobs and I realized I was weeping. I paused to catch my breath and had to endure a complete recollection of the room I had just left, my mind trying to sew the pieces of a morbid quilt together. I saw another entrance...I looked behind me...the only other way to go...back...and felt another surge of dread rise up in front of my heart, chilling me to the core. I stepped through the doorway....
She awoke with a start, her pajamas wet. At first Amilia wondered if she might have soiled herself in her sleep, then realized that it was sweat. Her hair was fairly plastered to her head and pillow by the cold, cold dampness. She held her hand over her heaving chest and tried to still the beating of her heart enough to catch her breath and gather her wits. What happened? She wondered, then, the dream...again. She sat up in bed and wandered into the bathroom, turned on the tap and splashed the cool water over her face and head. She looked up into the mirror when she felt reasonably calm, and saw how faded and tired she looked. "Oh God," She breathed, not certain how she was to face another day, "Help me. I can't stand much more of it..."
...I was trying to find something, I think. I wandered through doorway after doorway, room after room, each one crowded with...things...like junk some God or Demon had locked away....the essence of death seemed to follow me from one room to the next, the smell of it lingering on my flesh, in my hair, I even checked my clothing to find that they too, held the essence of something fine and rotten. I could not pass a room without finding at least one very dead thing. But, I ignored them, I was searching for something. A way out, perhaps....although I knew I did not want to go back to the sandy wastelands. Even though I have no idea how I had gotten there....I wished no part of it...I kept searching. I would know what it was when I found it. I would know.
She felt a dread in her mind, mixing with her other emotions, like a fly on the edge of a spider's web, gently shaking the corners of her brain. Amilia only vaguely understood what it meant. She only knew that the dreams had begun to invade her in her waking hours. "It won't be long now," She whispered, although she was certain the words hadn't come from herself, but from something manipulating her mouth, her voice...
....I had found it! At last! My heart leaped with the sheer joy if it! Now I could escape! I could...I could...I found myself gazing into a mirror......my fingers lifted to my lips, my cheeks and brow...this wasn't right! I nearly screamed in horror and shock. This wasn't right at all! I noticed, for the first time, the room in the mirror, the room which should have been behind me. Pastel walls, overstuffed white sofa and a couple of chairs. A man was seated in one of the chair, nodding his head and gazing at...at me. There was a strange...familiarity to him....I turned my eyes back to those which stared at me from the image in the glass. Eyes that were not mine own. I did not want this. I did not! I wanted my own face to be staring back at me! My own face! Damn this! Damn this! I screamed and slammed my fist into the glass, shattering it, sending shards of glass towards my exposed face....
....She screamed as the glass broke for no apparent reason, and ducked her head behind her raised arms. She found herself on the floor, her head bowed and tears in her eyes. "I can't do it again!" She sobbed, her body shook, "I can't! Dr. Simmons, something's wrong with me! Something wants...to..." And Dr. Simmons mentally hit himself for his stupidity. Of course it was too soon, He thought bitterly as he gazed down at the woman in pity, An experiment such as this...no wonder she broke down... He reached to help her stand, and removed the wires from her skull, the glue making a sick ripping sound as he pulled the away. "Shh," He soothed, "You won't have to Amilia, you can sleep all through the night tonight. No dreams. Nothing." "Promise?" She sniffed, and smiled, "Got drugs to give me, huh?" "Yes, Amilia," He nodded, and noted her puffy eyes and haunted look, "Some very good drugs."
"How is she?" Dr. Johnathan Simmons entered the room and sat down at the long conference table, he directed his gaze to the man who had spoken, a rather small man, fat, and somewhat pig-like, "Very well. Considering the effects of the drug we've been giving her..." "Any sign of an...emergence yet?" "There was..." Dr. Simmons began, "But, it was too soon...we lost it...she's not responding to the therapy." "Then it is done," A woman said, she held a pen to her eyes, spinning it. She seemed to be engrossed in it's movement, "Find another...another subject." "And the woman?" Dr. Simmons asked, "What should I do with Amilia now?" "Get rid of her," The woman said flatly, emotionlessly, "We can't afford any of this getting out...we can't even send her back to the asylum..." Dr. Simmons said nothing. Silence was always best in such situations.
I wandered helplessly about the...I had finally decided that I must be inside a dark and dismal castle of some sort...feeling confused and dizzy...my head ached and my body felt weak. I stopped often to rest and found myself wandering off in my thoughts, wandering away...and when I looked down at
myself...I looked wan and faded...as if I were...not here...but stuck between worlds. A silly thought, I know, and so I must press on...I must remember what I had come here for. Something...something...
She closed her eyes, still feeling the sharp prick of the injection Dr. Simmons had given her a few moments ago, closed her eyes for the last time.
I looked up, feeling something shift in the reality of things, and saw a shadow coming towards me from the corridor in the darkness...I smiled and reached my hands out. The figure came closer and I wrapped my arms about the form....laughing in joy. The figure, a woman of my own height and weight...long dark hair, dark green eyes and a weary expression, lifted her hands to her face and screamed. I laughed again. For I remembered all. I had found what I had come for...I hurried and engulfed her essence into my own and ran for the open doorway...ran for the light...
....I opened my eyes and smiled...I sat up in bed and looked about. There seemed to be a tiny flickering near the back of my mind, an annoyance best left ignored. I turned and pressed a button on my nightstand connected to a white box, "Dr. Simmons?" I said, "I would like some water, please." I had found the way out. I looked about and smiled, the warm sun, the real sun, had finally pierced the darkness. And the flickering at the back of my mind sounded like the screams of the insane.…
~End~
A Shadow Within By Ami E. Bowen
A fine and gentle breeze caressed the flesh of my face like the fingers of an expert lover, lifting my pale hair and allowing it to fall back again to my shoulders and back in sweeping waves. I stood upon the sand, the glare of the brilliant burning orb overhead piercing my vision as I gazed through slotted eyes at the endless drifting sand all about. My bare toes sifted warm sand between them and I glanced down at my attire. Donned in a white night-gown, long so the hem of torn lace reached my ankles, nearly concealing my small, naked feet. A cloud of humidity passed over me and I looked up again to see the grayness of the skies moving towards me. I noticed something I had not before as I turned my gaze on the sand once more. A doorway had appeared in the air, or rather, the frame of a door had appeared, leaning in midair with nothing about it. I thought that perhaps if I went through it I would end up on the other side of it and nowhere very far away, or around it. I shook my head at this vision, certain that the heat and sun had gotten the best of me, trying to shake his strange and silly hallucination from my sight. The doorway remained. I sighed in weariness and shrugged. Ah, well, if this is how is was to be played....and stepped through the doorway.
Amilia licked her dry lips and stared at herself in the mirror's reflection. Her features were small, wan, and somewhat elvish. From her slanted green eyes to her pert turned up nose, Amilia made a face and could not understand how she could remain so...cute...even with her dark hair loose from the normal pigtails she wore every day. Yet, her looks were not the thing that was bothering her this morning. No, not at all. She ran the hairbrush roughly through her long hair, wincing as several strands of long hair came out of her skull with the stroke, and forced herself to stay calm. It was the seventh dream in as many nights. Amilia's fingers shook as she reached for her tube of cinnamon-pink lipstick and nearly dropped the container on the vanity table. Get a grip, She told herself sternly, disgustedly, It was only a dream....
....doorway leading to...I gazed about and covered my mouth with my hands, determined not to scream...not to cry out...not to...not to...I backed away and ran down a narrow corridor, fleeing from the horrible, terrible sight...the stench of dried...the bodies...so many...so small...eyes wide in innocent fear...such trusting, soulful eyes....even those whose heads held only bleak nothingness, the round eyes having been ripped from them....I ran...my heart pounding a rhythm of fear in my chest, my breath coming in great gasping sobs and I realized I was weeping. I paused to catch my breath and had to endure a complete recollection of the room I had just left, my mind trying to sew the pieces of a morbid quilt together. I saw another entrance...I looked behind me...the only other way to go...back...and felt another surge of dread rise up in front of my heart, chilling me to the core. I stepped through the doorway....
She awoke with a start, her pajamas wet. At first Amilia wondered if she might have soiled herself in her sleep, then realized that it was sweat. Her hair was fairly plastered to her head and pillow by the cold, cold dampness. She held her hand over her heaving chest and tried to still the beating of her heart enough to catch her breath and gather her wits. What happened? She wondered, then, the dream...again. She sat up in bed and wandered into the bathroom, turned on the tap and splashed the cool water over her face and head. She looked up into the mirror when she felt reasonably calm, and saw how faded and tired she looked. "Oh God," She breathed, not certain how she was to face another day, "Help me. I can't stand much more of it..."
...I was trying to find something, I think. I wandered through doorway after doorway, room after room, each one crowded with...things...like junk some God or Demon had locked away....the essence of death seemed to follow me from one room to the next, the smell of it lingering on my flesh, in my hair, I even checked my clothing to find that they too, held the essence of something fine and rotten. I could not pass a room without finding at least one very dead thing. But, I ignored them, I was searching for something. A way out, perhaps....although I knew I did not want to go back to the sandy wastelands. Even though I have no idea how I had gotten there....I wished no part of it...I kept searching. I would know what it was when I found it. I would know.
She felt a dread in her mind, mixing with her other emotions, like a fly on the edge of a spider's web, gently shaking the corners of her brain. Amilia only vaguely understood what it meant. She only knew that the dreams had begun to invade her in her waking hours. "It won't be long now," She whispered, although she was certain the words hadn't come from herself, but from something manipulating her mouth, her voice...
....I had found it! At last! My heart leaped with the sheer joy if it! Now I could escape! I could...I could...I found myself gazing into a mirror......my fingers lifted to my lips, my cheeks and brow...this wasn't right! I nearly screamed in horror and shock. This wasn't right at all! I noticed, for the first time, the room in the mirror, the room which should have been behind me. Pastel walls, overstuffed white sofa and a couple of chairs. A man was seated in one of the chair, nodding his head and gazing at...at me. There was a strange...familiarity to him....I turned my eyes back to those which stared at me from the image in the glass. Eyes that were not mine own. I did not want this. I did not! I wanted my own face to be staring back at me! My own face! Damn this! Damn this! I screamed and slammed my fist into the glass, shattering it, sending shards of glass towards my exposed face....
....She screamed as the glass broke for no apparent reason, and ducked her head behind her raised arms. She found herself on the floor, her head bowed and tears in her eyes. "I can't do it again!" She sobbed, her body shook, "I can't! Dr. Simmons, something's wrong with me! Something wants...to..." And Dr. Simmons mentally hit himself for his stupidity. Of course it was too soon, He thought bitterly as he gazed down at the woman in pity, An experiment such as this...no wonder she broke down... He reached to help her stand, and removed the wires from her skull, the glue making a sick ripping sound as he pulled the away. "Shh," He soothed, "You won't have to Amilia, you can sleep all through the night tonight. No dreams. Nothing." "Promise?" She sniffed, and smiled, "Got drugs to give me, huh?" "Yes, Amilia," He nodded, and noted her puffy eyes and haunted look, "Some very good drugs."
"How is she?" Dr. Johnathan Simmons entered the room and sat down at the long conference table, he directed his gaze to the man who had spoken, a rather small man, fat, and somewhat pig-like, "Very well. Considering the effects of the drug we've been giving her..." "Any sign of an...emergence yet?" "There was..." Dr. Simmons began, "But, it was too soon...we lost it...she's not responding to the therapy." "Then it is done," A woman said, she held a pen to her eyes, spinning it. She seemed to be engrossed in it's movement, "Find another...another subject." "And the woman?" Dr. Simmons asked, "What should I do with Amilia now?" "Get rid of her," The woman said flatly, emotionlessly, "We can't afford any of this getting out...we can't even send her back to the asylum..." Dr. Simmons said nothing. Silence was always best in such situations.
I wandered helplessly about the...I had finally decided that I must be inside a dark and dismal castle of some sort...feeling confused and dizzy...my head ached and my body felt weak. I stopped often to rest and found myself wandering off in my thoughts, wandering away...and when I looked down at
myself...I looked wan and faded...as if I were...not here...but stuck between worlds. A silly thought, I know, and so I must press on...I must remember what I had come here for. Something...something...
She closed her eyes, still feeling the sharp prick of the injection Dr. Simmons had given her a few moments ago, closed her eyes for the last time.
I looked up, feeling something shift in the reality of things, and saw a shadow coming towards me from the corridor in the darkness...I smiled and reached my hands out. The figure came closer and I wrapped my arms about the form....laughing in joy. The figure, a woman of my own height and weight...long dark hair, dark green eyes and a weary expression, lifted her hands to her face and screamed. I laughed again. For I remembered all. I had found what I had come for...I hurried and engulfed her essence into my own and ran for the open doorway...ran for the light...
....I opened my eyes and smiled...I sat up in bed and looked about. There seemed to be a tiny flickering near the back of my mind, an annoyance best left ignored. I turned and pressed a button on my nightstand connected to a white box, "Dr. Simmons?" I said, "I would like some water, please." I had found the way out. I looked about and smiled, the warm sun, the real sun, had finally pierced the darkness. And the flickering at the back of my mind sounded like the screams of the insane.…
~End~