Skip to main content

I Dream of Pasta: Night Terrors



As a child, I had horrid dreams of the fire that took the life of my parents. My adoptive mother would always calm me down back to a light sleep, and I would have no memory of it the next morning.

As I grew older, I realized that the night terrors weren't as frequent as they used to be when I was younger. In fact, by the time I was seventeen, I couldn't remember the last time I did have an attack. I had a somewhat normal life, nothing unusual.

Eventually, after I finished college I moved from my small town home of South Bend and traveled to Seattle. That was where I met Daniel, my husband. After about a year of being there, we figured that going back to South Bend would be a lovely idea. At the time I was almost a month and a half pregnant with our first child, and we thought that living in a small town would be best for him or her.

For the first two weeks of house hunting, we lived with my adoptive mother(her husband recently passed away of lung cancer). I noticed that the old house I used to live in was reconstructed, it was as if there was never a fire to begin with. Daniel and I figured that it would be a great idea to live there, considering that he'd be close to his new job, and there were great schools near by. After a few weeks of planning and getting the paperwork finished, we had owned my old home.

Life continued, we had our child, we named her Angela (my mother's name) Alexandra (female version of my father's name). Seven years later, Angela was on summer break and Daniel's job was anything but boring. Eventually he began traveling all over the world, he'd bring back little toys for Angela and clothing and jewelry for me. Needless to say though, he was gone often. And that didn't work out too well when Angela began having night terrors.

It was so odd that she began having them, what was even more disturbing was that they were constantly of fire.

She cried in the dead of the night. I rushed to her room, "Angie, what's the matter?" She only wept in my arms, wanting Daddy and Mommy. After a few more minutes of her crying, I had calmed her down, but this time, I kept her up. She sat across from me at the dinner table, drinking her hot chocolate. "Sweetie, what did you dream about." She took one more gulp and answered, "A man and a woman. You looked a lot like the woman, only her hair was darker."

I felt my stomach twist, I had always been told that I looked like my mother with lighter hair. But there were no pictures of them around, Angela only knew their names, I hadn't even told her that they died in a fire. "What was happening?" I asked. She bit her lip, "They were on fire, screaming, saying 'Get Haven out!'" I sighed, that was what my uncle told me they said before they died. I sent Angela to bed and called Daniel, which it was nearly noon for him and explained everything that happened.

I called a doctor and he said that there was nothing out of the ordinary with Angela, that it was all just a very bad dream. Eventually, I had no leads, and neither had Daniel. For a while, the night terrors stopped, and we lived peaceful once again. But the first time we attended church, the priest looked at me funny. At the end of the sermon, he pulled me aside and said that my daughter was having horrid dreams. I nodded, but before I asked him how he knew, he had a look of great alarm on his face, "Get her out! And if you can, get out! Leave all possessions behind but the essentials, but please get out!"

I was confused, but I thought logically: Maybe he was hinted that some gangsters were gonna set the house on fire?

I came up with a good idea to go visit my adoptive mother for a week, I took all of the clothes that would last a week and even our dog.

The next day, we awoke to strange news that our house was burned to the ground. What was even more odd, was that it burned down the exact way it did twenty five years ago. Down to the very last ash.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

A Wish Come True (A Short Story)

I woke up with a start when I found myself in a very unfamiliar place. The bed I was lying on was grand—an English-quilting blanket and 2 soft pillows with flowery laces. The whole place was fit for a king! Suddenly the door opened and there stood my dream prince: Katsuya Kimura! I gasped in astonishment for he was actually a cartoon character. I did not know that he really exist. “Wake up, dear,” he said and pulled off the blanket and handed it to a woman who looked like the maid. “You will be late for work.” “Work?” I asked. “Yes! Work! Have you forgotten your own comic workhouse, baby dear?” Comic workhouse?! I…I have became a cartoonist? That was my wildest dreams! Being a cartoonist! I undressed and changed into my beige T-shirt and black trousers at once and hurriedly finished my breakfast. Katsuya drove me to the workhouse. My, my, was it big! I’ve never seen a bigger place than this! Katsuya kissed me and said, “See you at four, OK, baby?” I blushed scarlet. I always wan

Hans and Hilda

Once upon a time there was an old miller who had two children who were twins. The boy-twin was named Hans, and he was very greedy. The girl-twin was named Hilda, and she was very lazy. Hans and Hilda had no mother, because she died whilst giving birth to their third sibling, named Engel, who had been sent away to live wtih the gypsies. Hans and Hilda were never allowed out of the mill, even when the miller went away to the market. One day, Hans was especially greedy and Hilda was especially lazy, and the old miller wept with anger as he locked them in the cellar, to teach them to be good. "Let us try to escape and live with the gypsies," said Hans, and Hilda agreed. While they were looking for a way out, a Big Brown Rat came out from behind the log pile. "I will help you escape and show you the way to the gypsies' campl," said the Big Brown Rat, "if you bring me all your father's grain." So Hans and Hilda waited until their father let them out,

I Was A Lab Assistant of Sorts (Part 3)

Hey everyone. I know it's been a minute, but I figured I would bring you up to speed on everything that happened. So, needless to say, I got out, but the story of how it happened was wild. So there we were, me and the little potato dude, just waiting for the security dude to call us back when the little guy got chatty again. “Do you think he can get us out?” he asked, not seeming sure. “I mean, if anyone can get us out it would be him, right?” “What do you base this on?” I had to think about that for a minute before answering, “Well, he's security. It's their job to protect people, right? If anyone should be able to get us out, it should be them.” It was the little dude's turn to think, something he did by slowly breathing in and out as his body puffed up and then shrank again. “I will have to trust in your experience on this matter. The only thing I know about security is that they give people tickets