Bad dream

I slowly opened my eyes and turned to see the time. The digital alarm's brilliant dial read 3:33 a.m. As soon as my senses began to revive, I let out a groan. I don't want to be confronted with reality. It's heinous and perilous. Please, please, please! This is a realm of torment and suffering. I just want to travel to another world of fantasy, which I know I can only do when sleeping.

SMACK!

The sound of a huge crash from downstairs startled me and made me jump. Steps could be heard echoing up the stairs to my room. With my heart racing, I searched the area for a safe place to hide. Closet! Even though there wasn't much room in the closet, it was preferable than being out in the open. As I was almost entirely inside the closet, someone pounded up the stairs.

I was yanked out of the closet by a hand wrapped around my ankle. A masked man confronted me when I was forced to turn around. His cat-green eyes made me shudder despite the fact that I couldn't see his distinct features. I kicked at the man as I struggled to get free from his clutches. I bolted as soon as his grasp relaxed and he began chasing me.

While he was after me, I was able to travel quite far, but then I started to slow down, it's like I'm running on the water until I was barely moving at all. Then he rounded the corner and walked right up to me, holding a knife. He stabbed me in the stomach, drew it out, and then stabbed me in the shoulder, dragging it up from my shoulder and across my throat. The blood oozed out from my eyes, ears, stomach, and throat.

I gasped and jerked my body backward as I opened my eyes. I heard a loud breaking sound, but all I could think of was how I was choking and gagging as I felt my neck and stomach. It was eerily genuine. I felt every bone the knife crossed crack. My eyes welled up and a sob escaped my lips. Since that incident, I've been plagued by dreams. I hid my head in my hands and attempted to keep my trembling body under control. These nightmares can be enjoyable at times, making me want to sleep indefinitely, recreating the same scenarios over and over. However, there are occasions when things are even worse.

As I took in my surroundings, I gradually felt myself relaxing. I'm ok. No one knows where I am. Not when I'm not in Worcester. I was in New York's Petit Monde, a little café. In contrast to the bustling city outside with skyscrapers and never-ending traffic, the interior of this place is pleasant and cheerful.

When I looked around the café, I noticed that every pair of eyes was fixed on me, which confused me. But it hit me when I noticed a shattered glass near my feet. When I awoke from my sleep, I must have pushed it off. My cheeks flushed with humiliation, and I timidly apologized while looking down.

I looked up when I felt a tap on my shoulder and saw a woman in her early 40s. She is stunning, with blonde hair pulled back into a tight bun, exquisite skin, and the most stunning pale blue eyes that remind me of the sea.

"Honey, are you okay?" she inquired. Her words made me flinch slightly. It's been months since someone has called me like that… with such tenderness and affection.

"Y-Yes, I'm al-alright" I answered stuttering at my words. The lady took a seat next to mine.

"Bad dream huh?" she asked.

"Yeah," I said shyly, tucking my loose brown hair behind my ear.

"Grecia Watson" she introduced.

"Karolia Kingston," I said, shaking my hand with her. A lump formed in my throat at the mention of my last name but I swallowed it down.

"Beautiful name. Your face doesn't look familiar. Are you new to this café?" she asked curiously.

"Yes. In fact, I'm new to New York" I debated whether I should say the name of my hometown, but decided against it. I quickly changed the subject to evade her questions about my location.

"Are you a regular customer here?"

"Oh yes. This place is my favorite" she said. "They make the best pancake in this town. You should try it" she smiled sweetly.

"Oh, I will one day"