A run down house
filled with garbage and dirt,
and bugs of all sorts
that I didn't know existed,
is where my dream had taken place.
Well, at least I hope it's a dream,
and not reality.
I walked towards that broken, disgusting house
regretting each step
that took me closer
I'm blind to my surroundings
my only focus is that house,
or what is in that house.
The house seems to get bigger
and it looms over me
threatening to crash and smother me
but even with all this danger
and my head telling me to run
I was compelled to move on
to find the purpose of this horrible house,
this awful house.
The wind picked up
and my vision changed
the house changed,
it was still the same house
but this time it was a quaint little house
it sit perfectly in the country setting
and children ran and played
adults were laughing
everyone was happy
and I found myself laughing with them,
As soon as the vision came,
it disappeared,
leaving my frozen
and hesitant.
I no longer wanted to find out what happened to this house.
The walkway was cracked,
the lawn was overgrown
the trees were snapped in two
and darkness was settling in,
the horrible house it was once more
looming over me.
I started to run,
but not away,
much to my dismay
I ran towards that house,
through the dark gaping doorway
right into the garbage filled living room,
dying room more like it.
Everything was dying,
and I watched,
death filled the living room
like a sickness that can not be cured,
it was oppressing,
and once again I felt smothered.
The room swirled before me,
broken tables and chairs flew around the room,
a tornado of broken things
flew towards me,
broken tables and chairs,
sofas and pictures,
hopes and dreams,
souls.
Broken souls stopped this rampaging tornado
and stared at me,
their colorless eyes huge,
begging me to save them.
I started walking,
up now,
up old stairs that creaked ominously under my feet.
Every step I thought I was going to fall through.
I turned down the hall and into a room,
now there was a broken crib
and destroyed toys,
the only things intact
were a teddy bear,
and a child.
The child was sick with the fever of death,
and I had to get him out of here
those broken souls were screaming out of fear,
"Get Out!"
The house was going to fall.
I grabbed the child and the bear,
and I ran.
Down those perilous stairs
out the gaping door way
and I ran with the child in my arms
far away from that horrible house
and those broken souls.
I finally stopped running
when I was in a field of frost bitten flowers.
When did it become winter?
That child was shivering,
he gripped his bear
the strength of that child filled me with some sort of hope.
I wrapped up the child and ran.
Now it was spring,
the child was older now,
he still stayed with me
as we ran through the living forest,
this child's cheeks were bright red with the joy of running.
Spring fever wrapped him in warm, gentle, arms.
Then we ran into Summer,
how I do not know.
But that child was older,
and I was older,
he had blue eyes and blond hair,
and I never noticed until now.
We ran along the beach,
he splashed in the water
Summer fever took him up in her raging warmth.
Then it was fall,
and that child changed once again,
no longer happy
he walked instead, alone a lot,
without me.
His blue eyes seemed to darken,
and he was paling,
anyone could see that Autumn fever caught him in weakening arms,
and though he was beautiful,
he was dying.
Then winter came once more,
and we were back at that house.
That horrible house,
that now was just a pile of rubble,
and broken souls.
That child walked up to the house,
fell to his knees,
and died.
I ran up to him
winter trying to hold me back with cold winds,
all that was left
was his teddy bear.
Winter fever had crushed him in her cold grip,
and killed him.
I hugged the teddy bear.
I woke up,
disoriented by my dream,
my heart felt raw,
the death of a child,
something I never want to be reality,
ever.