literature

Dreams

Deviation Actions

bettycrockercookbook's avatar
Published:
1.5K Views

Literature Text

The shop was large and soaps and candles lined the shelves on the walls. It was a family owned shop, but the family only consisted of the lady at the counter. She was quiet and good at her job, but concerned always, especially as she watched me walk around the store, smelling the candles. They were all marked differently with colors and labels, but none of them had a scent.
She asked me where my parents were, but her mouth never moved. I was confused, I was legally an adult. I looked down at myself, to realize I was 4'5" and obviously a young girl. Of course I had known that the whole time.
The shelf with the soaps overflowed as I made my way to the back of the shop, where the bathroom was. I stood in there for a long time, eyeing the small room and window on the far wall. It was bright outside, and the light was comforting, but I knew I shouldn't be back there. The sign on the wall said "employes only". I left to find the boy I came into the store with offering the lady help with cleaning the mess he had made earlier. She said she didn't need my help and glared at me, pointing towards the door.
I left the shop to rest of the mall, walking around. The lady on the bench with the baby didn't notice me as I walked by, but her child smiled. I walked into the large sports store at the end of the hallway, and sat in the floor for a while. The people that worked there talked about me. It wasn't often they got a customer, since the mall was empty. I put on a coat and left. They said nothing.
The talk show hosts in the hallway stood instead of sitting on the empty bench. I walked up and conversed with them. They knew me. I was a fan. I asked them about the pokemon they had picked, and one of them laughed. They thanked me for the art and then they left through the sports store.
I walked to the darkened shop in the middle of the mall. I looked through the posters and asked the workers there how I could pick out what I wanted if I couldn't see. They handed me a ball and said "You want this". I left with the cards they had given me.
The mall was white and empty.
It was a dark night outside, and as I looked out the glass doors I could see that the parking lot was endless. The group of teenagers that had been walking around the mall passed by me. They pointed as they did, staring at me until they had completely passed. They wanted to apologize for the way they felt. I knew this, but they said nothing. I was angry.
I walked out into the cold night air. It felt like snow was on the way. The white dress I was wearing wasn't something to be out in right now. I asked my dad why I had to go. He looked down at me and said "sweetie, you have to go home".
I started across the parking lot and the group of teenagers stared again. They wanted me to join them as they smoked. They said nothing. They didn't want me to go. I knew this, but they said nothing.
I walked across the parking lot until I made it to the other side. The forest scared me. I looked back at the white, lit mall. It scared me too. I walked parallel to the trees. I looked at the ditch seperating me from the main road. The shops on the other side of the road looked inviting. I walked the direction down the road that I knew led away from my home.
I entered the venders booth. The shop was filled with knick knacks. I grabbed a business card. My mother turned to me. "All these things are traps", she said. When I looked down, the business card was gone.
I stopped existing. I had died. You wanted to say something. I knew this, but you said nothing. I was angry.

----------

I was at the Kroger down the road. I called my mother. I shouldn't have been out of the house and I knew it. I apologized to her as I stood on the sidewalk. She told me to walk home, that she would be home soon.
The car my mother drove my sister and I around when we were children was there. I had to bring it home. I stared to pull it. It moved like a little red wagon.
When I got to the grass lot on the corner I got in the passenger seat. A teacher of mine was in the driver's seat with her two children in the back. I asked her if she could give me a ride home, crying. I was too young to walk alone. My friend's mother glared at me, her hands clutching the steering wheel. Her daughter was in the back crying. She wasn't my friend. A stranger let go of the steering wheel and pointed towards the door and asked me to leave with a thick accent. Her two daughters in the back glared at me and told me to die.
I got out of my car and ran. My house was right down the street, and I took the long way.
I hopped a fence, looking over my shoulder as I cried. I crawled through a bush and into a park. When I came through the bush the large black dog was growling at me. He foamed at the mouth. She said things I never wanted to hear. I ran through the park and the other kids on bikes didn't notice I was there. The roads were long in the neighborhood. The houses were large.
I passed by her house. She didn't live there. I felt scared and unwanted. Her mother followed me in a car on the street over. I pedaled faster. I turned onto the road to my house. The trees had rats and spiders. They were large. I was scared and the last of the bread I picked up was to get the spiders to not take me. Her car followed me.
I ran across the yards, I could see my house there. It wasn't my house. I entered the backdoor into the red hallway. The floor wasn't clean. My bare feet became messy as I walked across the tile floor.
All of the white doors opened to small bathrooms.
The two rooms at the end of the hall were larger. The left one had a toilet and a television. It was completely white and clean.
The one on the right had a couch and television. It was completely white and clean.
I sat in the floor of the bathroom on the left, holding my knees to my chest.
I stared at the horror unfolding on the news.
The man at the end of the hall walked closer.
I don't know. Some dreams I had, I wrote them both down at, like, two in the morning.

A lot of the dreams I had during the period of time where these happened were stress related dreams, over some friends that were treating me poorly. You can probably read into that in places.
© 2015 - 2024 bettycrockercookbook
Comments0
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In