• I dreamt this dream many times before, it wasn’t anything new, and it was always the same. It was always quiet, never a sound, and the people always stood in the exact same spot. I was always alone, and always drawing the same picture.
    It was a charcoal picture, simple, and not many details in it, but it told the story, and that’s all it had to do. I knew as I drew this picture, by the time I finished, it would come true. At first, I tried to never finish the drawing, but sooner or later it would become completed.
    I would sit on the bench, alone, drawing the picture I had drawn so many times before, everything was black and white, except that one child. His bright rainbow hat, and baby blue jacket, he was also the only one with a face, everyone else was like a blur, nonexistent, only me and that boy mattered.
    The picture would begin with a straight line across the page, the charcoal dust spreading across the page as I drew. The lines would eventually turn into a actual picture, a train station. Sitting on the bench I put a lot of detail into the boy, he was most important, and the train as is sped through the tunnel, never slowing down. The mother was also an important part of the picture, on her cell phone, turned away from her son. He danced dangerously close to the tracks, happily spinning in circles, hugging his stuffed bear. His face glowed with excitement. But in my picture that isn’t how they were portrayed, If it was up to me, that’s how it would have been drawn, but I had no control in the matter. Instead the mother’s phone was thrown onto the ground, and the spirited child was laying on the ground staring fearfully at the train that just went by, it never stopped. His teddy was no longer in his arms, and I was no longer on that cold, wooden bench.
    The picture was turning out nicely, it was almost completed, one more touch should do it.
    The charcoal touched the page lightly, and I was reluctant to finish the last line, but it would be finished.
    I smiled, the picture was nicer then last time, more thought out, more detailed. It was a shame I wasn’t able to admire its beauty for long.
    The picture slipped from my grasp to the floor, it was completed, and like all the other times when it was completed, I jumped from my seat to finish the dream.
    It was finished, you could say, but one thing I would change, is that damn teddy bear, to think, I could have saved that as well.
    The peoples faces became clear, and their emotions were easy to read, sad, shocked, surprised. That’s right the picture explained it all.
    Every time that picture was finished, the same thing would happen. The boy would lose his teddy, it falling onto the tracks, the mother, unaware of the situation would continue to talk on her phone. The boy also unaware of the train speeding through the station, showing no sign of stopping, would fall onto the tracks as well, while trying to reach his beloved teddy. And me, I would be up and already running to the boy, Already next to him, already throwing him back up onto the platform. This time, there was more time, reaching down, I grabbed the teddy, and that damn bear finally made it back up to the platform. The train never stopped, and the picture was always the same, but I didn’t finish it, I forgot to draw that damn bear. Yep, the picture was always the same, The train was a blur as it went through, and the mother desperately hugged the boy, everyone looked in shock, as I disappeared from the picture.
    That’s when I woke up, and that’s the last time I had that dream, I died, all because of that damn bear.

    Good night, and Good nightmares...