A Place for me to Dream
I was shocked that it happened, and to me of all people, but sometimes wishes do come true.
The whole situation started out simply enough. I wanted to have my own private place where I wouldn’t be bothered by anyone. They all get angry with me because I don’t talk much. They sent me to see Phil, and he was nice enough. For a head vet, anyway. He wanted me to talk about my feelings, however, and I don’t do that. They think something is wrong with me because I don’t express myself, but I do. They say what they think and I keep it in my head. That’s the safest place to keep your thoughts.
Phil got angry with me, and I guess I blame him, if there really is anyone to blame. After all, he’s supposed to be the professional, and what kind of professional yells at his patient? I think he’s the one who needs therapy, not me, but that’s just my opinion and it doesn’t matter much either way.
“I cannot deal with this kid anymore!” Phil exclaimed, pulling at his hair and walking out of his office. He pulled his hair a lot and sometimes I wondered how it all hadn’t fallen out yet, but this time was different. I was nervous and more than a little upset myself. I hated it when anyone got angry. It scared me, and Phil was a scary guy.
“Get out!” he growled at me, coming back into the room. He looked as if he just realized that this was his office and I was supposed to be the one who was kicked out, not him. Picking up my book bag, I quickly rushed out.
I didn’t understand why he was so angry. Our session was going pretty much the same way as every other session for the past six months. He asked me how I was feeling, what I was thinking, and is there anything that might be bothering me. I gave my usual noncommittal sounds in response, little “hms” and nods, and doodled on the notebook I was holding. Phil pressed me, maybe a little more than usual, but I still didn’t see where the anger came from. He was getting paid for sitting there with me for an hour once a week, why should he complain? He didn’t even have to be a good listener.
My mom was just pulling into the parking lot when I exited the building. I walked stiffly towards her car, opened the passenger side door, and got in. She looked at me, glanced back at my sister, turned off the ignition, and went into the building.
“Oh, what’d you do now, Adrian?” my sister, Kasey, asked, distaste evident in her voice. She didn’t like me even the tiniest bit and she was embarrassed that she had a sibling who was as “crazy” as I am. Let me tell you, the feeling is completely mutual.
My mom soon came back, looking livid. She didn’t say a word as she started the car again and pulled out of the parking place. Her jaw was clenched and I could swear there was a muscle in her cheek that was twitching.
It took about twenty minutes to get home, and no one spoke the whole time. Kasey followed me until I passed through the living room, at which point she flopped onto the couch. I entered my own room, closing the door behind me, and dropped onto my bed to think.
I needed some place to go, somewhere where no one would find me, at least for a little while. It took until my dad got home and I knew he and my mom were discussing Phil and his irrational irritation to come up with an idea. I grabbed my book bag, went over to my window, and opened it as quietly as possible. Then I slipped out of the house and quickly ran through our small backyard into the woods.
There was a cool place all the neighborhood kids knew of back there. Most of the time people only went there to spook their friends or something, and that wasn’t particularly often. It was easy to spook yourself as well, and some people have even said the place is haunted, but I don’t believe it.
I finally reached it: The Cabin. A very unoriginal name, and I don’t know who came up with it, but they should be slapped for giving the cabin such a stupid name. All it was was a half-collapsed cabin in the woods that probably belonged to a family about a hundred years ago. Big deal.
Satisfied, though, that no one was around, I sat down against one of the crumbling walls and relaxed. It was quiet--I couldn’t even hear birds chirping, and it was very peaceful.
That is, of course, until I heard the giggling. I don’t know where it came from, not even the general direction, and it creeped me out (but only a little). I glanced around and it seemed to grow fainter, but when I looked back at my knees, it grew louder.
This time when I looked up, it continued getting louder. As the volume rose, so did my heart rate. I stood and frantically looked about, but was unable to find the source of the eerie giggling.
Quite suddenly, and it seems the thing of movies when I think about it now, there appeared out of the window behind me a pair of arms. They grabbed me, causing a very fearful scream to erupt from my throat, and forcefully pulled me through the window. I kicked, twisted, shouted—anything to try to get away, but to no avail. I soon found myself in pitch blackness, the arms no longer pulling me. There was no light streaming in through the window I had been pulled through, and indeed, it seemed as if there was no window.
Before I could contemplate that conundrum further, the giggling started up again. I felt someone grabbing my hands, which caused another scream of fear, and I found myself on my feet and suddenly not alone, or in darkness. Long rows of blue flowers stretched in every direction, and holding my hands was a little girl who looked as if she should be in a horror movie. Not because she was particularly ugly or zombie-like, but because there was just something about her that was disturbing.
“A place for me to dream,” the girl said, gesturing towards the area surrounding us. I raised my eyebrows at the strange girl.
“I want to play!” she exclaimed, grabbed my other hand as well, and began twirling around, singing some kind of song I couldn’t catch the words to. She giggled, and I recognized the giggle as the very same one that had started in the woods.
“Hide!” she told me, letting go of my hands and covering her eyes. She began counting, and I played along and rushed away from her, finding myself a tree to hide behind.
“Ten! Ready or not, here I come!” she yelled. A childish giggle came from me this time as she began shouting my name.
“Adrian! Adrian!”
I closed my eyes, a smile spreading across my face.
“Adrian!”
I opened my eyes and looked at Phil.
“You were slipping off into your own little world again,” he told me. “Do you want to tell me about what happened when you disappeared yet?”
I smiled. He would never know about it. No one would. The little girl was my friend to play with, and that was my place to dream.
