Nightmare

1.5K 21 2
                                    

Y/E/C = your eye colour

- - - - -

The leaves crunch under my feet, the sound echoing through the pitch-black tunnel as I frantically try to find a way out. My right hand runs along the cold, damp wall as my left hovers uncertain in front of me, a weak attempt at shielding me from anything that might pop up without warning.

Just as I think I see some light, I hear a strange noise coming from above me. My breath hitches in my throat as I slowly look up, my feet frozen to the spot. Thousands of small bodies hang from the ceiling, their beady eyes focused on me alone. Bats. I let out a blood curdling scream and try to run, only to discover what was once solid ground has now turned to quicksand - and I'm sinking.

Suddenly, in a massive flurry of wings, the bats fly at me, the room reduced to complete darkness once again. I scream and scream, my throat raw. Tears race down my face as I try to fend off the bats and stop myself from sinking. But the bats are everywhere and the ground is rushing at me too fast and I can't breathe and I'm deafened from all the shrieks and screaming and oh my god I'm going to die I'm going to die I'm going to die-

I bolt upright, gasping for breath as hot tears trail down my face. At first I don't realise where I am, but then shapes start to form in the dark and I can make out my bedroom. I reach a shaky hand up to my head and brush my hair away from where it's plastered to my face. I'm sticky with sweat, my bedsheets a tangled mess around my legs. A vague memory of someone telling me to take deep breaths bubbles to the surface and I find myself obeying, desperate to calm my racing heart.

As my breathing slows and my hands lose some of their shakiness, reality floods in and I realise I've just had another nightmare - my sixth this week. I feel my eyes fill with tears, out of frustration more than anything. Why won't they go away? Memories of when I was a child come out of nowhere and I find myself longing to be held in my mother's safe embrace just one more time. She always had a knack for banishing the monsters from my mind.

After a while I start to calm down, gaining control of my breathing once again. Knowing there's no way I'll be able to get back to sleep, I grab the blanket resting at the bottom of my bed and wrap it around myself as I silently make my way towards the kitchen. I breathe out a sigh of relief when I notice that I don't seem to have woken up my roommate, Olivia, who's door is still closed. Although she was understanding of the nightmares at first, I know there's only so much of being woken in the middle of the night that a person can take.

I flick on the lights in the living room, which is attached to the kitchen, without paying attention to my surroundings and flop down onto the couch, rubbing my eyes. However, instead of landing on the usual soft cushion, I land on something hard and bony. My nerves are still fried from the nightmare so I can't help the shriek that escapes my lips as I leap off the couch.

"What the f-" I spin around at the sound of the voice and barely contain another small scream. There is a stranger on my couch. Scratch that, there's a strange man on my couch.
"Who are you?" He rasps, obviously still waking up properly.
I stare at him incredulously, "Who am- who are you?!" I whisper back, still being careful not to wake my roommate. I wrap the blanket tighter around my body as I watch him sit up straight, his chestnut hair a mess of curls atop his head.
"I'm Shawn, a friend of Olivia's from college." The boy, Shawn, explains, his tired eyes meeting mine. "Now if you wouldn't mind, who are you?" He repeats, raising an eyebrow.
"I'm Olivia's roommate, Y/N." I explain, still dubious. "She never mentioned she was having anyone over."
"Last minute thing," he waves his hand. "Hard to explain."
I take a deep breath, closing my eyes. "Right. Well I'm gonna go grab a drink and head back to bed." Shaking my head like that'll somehow wake me up from this weird dream, because that must be what it is, I walk into the kitchen.

Shawn Mendes Imagines Where stories live. Discover now