The Chase

My chest heaves, lungs moving air that feels like shards of glass. My head spins wildly and my legs threaten to buckle, leaving me in a heap on the dark sidewalk to nowhere. I don't dare stop. I can't risk turning around. I know it's gaining on me.

I'm in the dream again; the same, unending chase that's plagued my nights for months. I don't know what I'm running from, nor can I tell where I'm going. I only know the path ahead of me goes on into darkness, and if whatever is behind me catches up, I'm doomed. I can't hear it. I can't smell it. I simply know it's there - and I can't outrun it.

It's more than shadow, less than real, and very, very dangerous.

I'm somehow bogged down. The emptiness around me moves by in slow motion, though there's nothing discernible for reference. The only thing visible is the dark section of sidewalk below my feet, continuously moving behind me and never ending.

The dream doesn't come every night, but when it does, there is never, ever any escape. No other route to take, no help available. The only choice is to continue to run into the blackness ahead.

It never ends. I simply wake up suddenly, bathed in sweat, heart pumping wildly. Still in darkness, wondering for the first few minutes if I'm still dreaming. There will be no further sleep on the nights I have the dream.

I try frantically to make my legs move faster. It's never worked before and it doesn't work now. This thing is going to catch me, sooner or later. When it does, I'll be gone, but I don't know how or why. I just know it won't be pretty.

I want to turn and see it, just once, but I know the consequences. The half-step I'll lose will be enough for it to overtake me. I don't have the energy to call out, and I know there's no one else in the void to hear me. So, I run.

There's something different about tonight, though. Tonight, I've pushed myself much too far, but the solace of wakefulness seems hopelessly out of reach. I'm locked in this nightmare with no way out.

For the first time, the godawful stench of my pursuer reaches my nostrils. Gagging, I'm losing more ground. I can feel the vibrations of its heavy footfalls and hear each thud. I can feel myself resigning to my inevitable end.

At least it will finally be over.

As that thought runs through my mind, a blast of hot, foul breath sears the nape of my neck. It's just enough to spur me into action. The kind of action that I can only take here, in the dream. In the environment I've created, where I make the rules!

I'm suddenly transformed, though into what, I can't say. I'm crouching. Running in a completely unnatural position, but not losing ground. Unfortunately, I'm not gaining, either, yet. My arms extend from my shoulders, forward and downward, fingers curling, digging into the sidewalk ahead. Muscles taut, my elbows bend and pull, propelling me forward. The surrounding darkness moves by faster.

Pulling again and again, I feel a breeze against my face. I can sense the thing chasing me falling behind. The footfalls fade and gradually disappear.

A light appears ahead. As I propel myself toward it, I wake, knowing that I'm leaving this dream behind forever.

***

Author's Note: This childish, recurring dream really did plague my nights for almost a year as a young teenager. What's more, it actually resolved itself one night, just as I've written. I have no explanations to offer, other than the mysterious workings of a growing boy's mind.

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