TopazMyst

16.11.2010

Distressed (Non-lucid)

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

I and my mother on driving down a road and see a gas station. We both agree that we need a bathroom break and pull over. As I get out of the Mazda I see another man, the poster boy for a serial killer's henchman, exiting his vehicle. I walk around to my mother's side, exchange a knowing glance with her and open the door. From the moment we walk through the front door the man is on my heels. It's a big gas station and there are several twists and turns to reach the bathroom. So I know either he is following us, or has the same goal as us. I put my hand in the right pocket of my jeans and grip the pocket knife that never leaves my side. We pass the men's bathroom on the way to the women's and he is still following us. With no way to turn back, I and mom enter the bathroom and he's still on our heels. We both play dumb and as soon as she enters one of the stalls I enter the same one and try to shut the door behind me. He starts forcing his weight against the door.

"No fair girly! Just open the door!" He's says in a Bronx, thug accent.

He starts to push in and even sees me pulling open the knife but still pushes forward and tries to reach for it. My strength was no match for his and he pried the door open. I stabbed him. I inflicted as much damage as I could, at first only superficial to try and scare him off because I didn't want to take a life. But in the end, it's what I had to do.

I and my mother exit the stall, his blood all over my clothes. She runs to get help and call the police and I run out into the parking lot stumbling from the effects of faded adrenaline and the fear from realization that I almost visited my worst nightmare.

I pull out my phone unconsciously and place a call, putting the phone to my ear just as I reach our SUV. I try to open it, but it's locked, so I just lean my head against the glass and let out a sigh. The phone rings. Once, twice, three times... I get her voice mail. At first I think about hanging up, but the scared and distressed part of me wont allow it and wins over. After a short moment of silence I begin to speak...

"...Connie, it's me, Tessa." It's all just a whisper.

"Please just call me back. ...I need you..."

I hang up and slump down to take a seat on the curb, waking up shortly after.