Have you ever wondered about some of your strange dreams?
They're bizarre and unrealistic, you don't even consider them scary. But what if dreams become reality's hidden omens.
What if the boundary between your dreams and reality completely intertwined. Like a maggot feeding on a corpse.
At first, it was just a weird dream. What I remember most; was the shadowy figure stood in front of me.
I could feel it; it stares on me. As if it had something to say. Days have passed, every night the same dream. The ominous figure drew closer and closer to me, dream after dream. It still watches me.
*************
I woke up in my bed; drenched in sweat. The same nightmare again and again.
I looked at the clock, it's 6 am.
*Sigh*
*************
-Downstairs-
After taking a shower and changing clothes; I went downstairs to have some breakfast. I am still sleepy, those fucking nightmares.
"Stop fussing, you should hurry up."
"Almost done."
As I headed to the kitchen; I heard the voices of my mum and dad. I don't know the exact reason, but since the nightmares started I am constantly worried about them.
I didn't say anything and took a seat; in front of my meal. Bacon and eggs.
"You seem troubled. Is anything thing wrong with the school?", asked dad.
" It's nothing, I just had a weird dream.", I answered. I don't like to talk about them, as I avoided talking about my dreams with my parents around.
"Nightmare?", asked dad.
"Nah, just a weird dream.", I just wanted to change the subject.
"You're 14 already, you still worrying about these things.", said dad.
Mom interrupted, "People have dreams; no matter the age. Hear him out first."
Thanks, mom.
"What kind of weird dreams?", she continued.
"Black trees, red sky... I don't remember much.", I said trying to avoid any further discussion.
"Strange...", said mom.
I finished my meal and left saying, " Come on, it's just a dream. I am getting later for school."
*****************
-Time skip-
-After school-
I got up into the school bus and looked at the empty seat beside a girl with brown hair and eyes of the same colour, it's Alli. She looked at me and smiled. I understood the indication and sat beside her. For some reason, she looked off.
"You don't look well, what's up?", I asked.
She shrugged and answered, "Nothing, just something about my family."
"You have my attention. Tell me.", I urged.
"You won't anybody.", she demanded.
"Have I ever?", I said assuring her.
She sighed and began telling her story.
****************************
Alli's POV
My parents put Grandma Rosie in a home when she started to "lose her grasp on reality," they said. I still found it cruel. But she seemed content. Content enough, I guess.
I remember visiting her. She had an old, wooden rocking chair that faced the window. Outside was nothing but flat, fields of green. The green would eventually fade, and when it snowed it was carpets of white for miles and miles. I'm not sure which season Grandma Rosie liked the most. She didn't do a lot of talking. She mainly listened to her radio, and always one station: 89.1.
But 89.1 never had a signal. It was always static. Grandma Rosie listened to this static, all day, seemingly waiting out her life. No one could reach her.
I visited one day to drop off a box of chocolates. Grandma Rosie rocked slowly in her chair with large headphones over her ears, staring out the window, watching the snowfall. I couldn't tell if she knew I was there. I walked over and placed the chocolates on a small table, and her hand suddenly reached across and snatched my wrist.
"Shhh," she whispered. "Listen."
Grandma Rosie leaned in close, and I put my ear to hers. I lifted the cup of her headphone and listened. There was only static.
I was about to speak, but she covered my mouth with her hand.
"Listen closer," she said.
I did, but all I heard was more static.
"Soon, they will come," she said. "They will come to take me away."
This freaked me out a little, and I went home. I told my mom and dad about what happened, but they didn't think it was that weird.
I kept thinking about it. One night I couldn't sleep so I buzzed my friend Abby on our walkie talkies. She lived across the street, and she somehow knew all about 89.1. She told me it was an old legend in our town, and you needed two things to explore the legend further: a radio, and a closet with the door slightly open. Face away from the closet, tune in to 89.1, and listen very closely. At some point through the static, you'll hear the faint sounds of an organ, distant screams, and the dragging of metal chains along a gravelly surface. The open doorway is an invitation - keep your eyes closed, and only if you keep your eyes closed - a figure will appear and drag you into the closet. From there, your fate is unknown.
"How do you know this?" I asked.
"I've heard about it," she said. "Don't tell anyone. The fewer people that know, the better." I looked out my window and saw Abby in her bedroom. She put her finger up to her lips.
"This is our secret," the walkie talkie buzzed.
For the next few days, I kept thinking about the ritual and Grandma Rosie. Why would she be playing this game? Why did she want to be dragged into an unknown fate?
I again told my parents that I was worried about Grandma Rosie. They were very dismissive.
"Ever since Grandpa died, I think she wants to let go," my mom said. "She wants to be with him."
Pov end
********************
The story ended as I reached my destination. I said goodbye and left. Another day coming to an end for Ian Wicker.
-Late night
I scoured the internet, and I found no folklore or urban legends relating to 89.1.
I wanted to know more, so I decided to try the game myself. It was late at night, and I opened my closet door just a crack. I sat on my bed with my back to the closet, tuned my radio to 89.1, and put on my headphones. I heard the static, and I closed my eyes.
I sat there for a long time, focusing very hard on the static. The longer I sat there, the more it felt like my room was shrinking. Kind of like space was filling up with something else like I wasn't alone.
In my headphones, I heard the distant organ, and I heard the screams that seemed far away, but sounded like they were getting closer.
I spent a lot of time alone in my bedroom, listening to the static of 89.1 with my eyes closed and the door slightly ajar. I'd hone in on the static, and I'd listen deeply and intently for the chimes of the organ, the harsh and troubling screams in the distance, and the clickity clink of the metal chains. Sometimes I'd think it was there, and I just had to focus a little harder. And I'd sense a presence in my bedroom about to creep out of my closet - the dark mist waiting to drag me away. I wanted it to come because I wanted this story to be real. I turned around to see the closet door fully opened.
But it didn't come.