Rising - 1. Chapter One: Dreams - Part 1

I felt like the world’s biggest idiot.

I was parked in front of a house, in a neighborhood that I’d never been to before, considering the idea of walking up to the front door of the house and knocking on it. Why? Because if I didn’t, then the dreams I’d been having…

Wait. Let me rephrase that.

The nightmares I’d been having were going to drive me right the fuck insane.

They’d started a little over three months ago. The first handful of them weren’t even nightmares at all. They were actually kind of cool. Then, from out of nowhere they morphed into some hideous shit that was enough to make a grown man approaching his forties wake up in the bed in a cold sweat, heart racing, breathing all hard, and feeling like a little kid who wants to run into his parents room and dive into their bed for sanctuary.

Oh yes.

That’s the kind of party these nightmares threw.

And initially it was only once a night, on any random day, once or twice a week. Then, they started happening three times a week, then four, then five.

Considering a seven day week, there were always two random days when the nightmares wouldn’t happen. I never knew when those days would be, and I never knew if they would travel back to back. It fooled me the first time they did that. Two days straight without nightmares, I’d thought they were over. Then, I suffered nightmares for four days straight.

Now, like any normal person whose body starts doing something it shouldn’t, I went to the doctor. After pretty much taking me through a psychological evaluation, they prescribed me some medicine that was supposed to help. But…the damn medicine needed a month of me taking it before it even kicked in. So, until that point, I had to suffer through.

I’d started to think that it was really going to take a full month before the medicine kicked in. I was on week three of taking it and it didn’t seem to be doing shit to help me. In fact, last Wednesday I started having more than one nightmare a night. When I was able to ask the doctor about it later that day, they said the increase was a normal side effect of the medicine.

Now...I’m no medical expert, but I do not understand how something that’s supposed to decrease or eliminate something could also have the side effect of increasing the frequency of the thing to be gotten rid of. The only reason I gave it all the benefit of the doubt was because I only had another week and some days left of taking the medicine. But, if there was no improvement after that, then me and my doctor were going to have a conversation.

I’d hoped that having more than one nightmare a night would be a random thing, and not something that could occur on every night that I had a nightmare. It was a hope that was quickly dashed the following night, Thursday, when two nightmares happened again. That’s why on Friday, after having just one nightmare that woke me up at 2:57 in the a.m, I didn’t even bother trying to go back to sleep.

Since I still had hours before I had to go to work, I’d decided to search the internet for a new apartment. The one I was currently living in was under attack by a roach infestation from hell. I’d lived in the place for three years and there had never been a single roach around. But once the owners of the ten unit complex that was behind mine came in to start gutting the units, which had suffered through a fire months before, it caused the roaches to migrate from that complex, and over to mine.

What was more salt in the wound was that the managers of my complex didn’t seem to care that more than half of their units were dealing with this problem. The only thing they’d been willing to do so far was to give us all bug bombs and send us on our way.

As a result, the majority of the neighbors that I’d spoken with had decided to start looking for someplace else to live.

When my search for a new someplace-else-to-live didn’t turn up anything worthy, I started searching for condos. My mother was in the market for one and I figured it wouldn’t hurt to look and send her some suggestions. That was how I eventually came across a listing for a place that upon seeing its picture caused me to throw the tablet I was looking at it on across the front room. The thing wasn’t even out of my hands good before I went into the kitchen, turned on the stove, and attempted to hold my wrist to the flame to see if it hurt. I knew that I wasn’t having a nightmare when I couldn’t get my wrist anywhere near the fire.

Now, I could’ve left that tablet right where it had landed, but I didn’t. After thirty minutes of contemplation, I got up, went over, retrieved it, and checked it for damage. I was surprised that the screen hadn’t gotten scratched or cracked. After that, I turned it on, and watched it load back up to where it had left off before the throw.

What I’d thought I’d seen previously was a picture of a house. But not just any house. It was the one that stood as a centerpiece in my nightmares. As I looked at the picture for a second time, I noticed that it did indeed look very much like that house. However, it only looked like it. It wasn’t an exact match. There were details about house in the picture that were different from the one in my nightmares. Details like color, and it not having a tree in its front yard, and it having a patio on its right front side.

Now, I could’ve let the situation alone right here. But oh no. Not me. I thought it would be fun to go and search for the address that I remembered seeing on the house from my nightmares. I did not believe the internet when it not only gave me a match for a place that was right there in the same neighborhood as the house I’d seen in the picture, but also gave me a street view to show me a sight that would’ve gotten the tablet thrown again had I not been somewhat expecting to see it.

Now, I still had a chance to leave the situation alone right here. But the question of how an entire house stepped out of my imagination and into reality lit a fire that’s been burning away at my sanity without remorse.

I've even done some research on the subject of dreams on the nights when I’ve had to stay awake. I found out we know more about space than we do about dreams. Most of the information is theories and interpretations that left me with more questions than answers.

That’s why almost a week after first seeing it, and some more nightmares later, here I was sitting in front of the house in question. I had one thing I needed to check off the list before I could dismiss its existence as pure coincidence.

In the nightmares, the house was the only place that was safe from the creatures that lurked outside. I’d spent many attempts trying to make it into the place, and I was usually not alone in trying to do that. There was another person in the nightmare, a man who’d be right there in the thick of shit with me. I don’t know who he is, and I’ve never met him in real life. I don’t even know his name. He’s never said it, and I always forget to ask. But despite that…I cannot for the life of me shake off this feeling that’s been there since I saw him in the very first dream. The feeling that I know him from somewhere.

As nightmares would have it, the man always had a penchant for finding the house and making it into the structure safely. However, my success rate when it came to making it into the house was enough to make me throw it out the car window like some bad CD’s. But, on the occasions when I do make it into the house, a bright white light engulfs everything immediately. Then, I wake up, and I don't have to deal with any more nightmares for the rest of that night.

Unlike the house, I didn't think the man was real. If he was, then he'd missed all of his cues to show up. It should've been him to tell me about the house, not the internet. It should've been him to show me where the house was, once again not the internet. It should've been him that was with me now at this suspected house, instead of it just being me all by myself. So, the only thing left for me to check off was what happened if I went to the house.

All I planned to do was knock on the door and see what happened. Since the man had turned out not to be real, I'd thought about his purpose in the nightmares, and I'd come up with a theory. Maybe he'd only been directing me to the house, and I was supposed to meet whoever lived there. Why? Who knew. Maybe for something, but probably nothing at all.

I was going to use the excuse of saying that I was at the wrong house as my escape plan if nothing happened. But, when I drove up, I noticed a parking lot down the short driveway to the left of the house. In it was a gray Ford with its exterior lights on and nobody in the vehicle. I knew the model was too old to have a self-starter on it, and figured it was also too old to automatically turn off the exterior lights once the driver exited the vehicle. I’d decided to use that as my reason for knocking instead. That way, I didn’t have to say my name at the door, and it would stand a better chance of getting the person to open the door. They might know who the car belonged to.

Undoing the seatbelt and taking my car keys out of the ignition, I took a look around for oncoming cars before I opened the door and got out.

The neighborhood was nice. Very clean. Very quiet. I would’ve assumed there were no kids in the area, but the basketball court setups I could see standing against the curbs in front of a couple of the houses contradicted that. The yards themselves were not fenced in and a little on the small side. The particular yard I was walking up the path through had one good sized tree on the right portion of the yard. Like the rest of the house, it looked just like it did in the nightmare, only without the nightmarish scarring and scenery to flank it.

Making it to the front door, I found myself hesitant to knock. I knew whoever lived there was home. I could see light from inside creeping around the edges and the bottom of the curtained window and hear the muffled sound of a television.

“This is what you came here to do. Now, knock on the fricken’ door so we can put this mess to rest,” I told myself mentally and forced my hand to knock on the door.

“Who is it?” a voice that sounded like a boy’s asked from the other end a few moments later.

“Hello. Do you guys happen to own a gray Ford Focus?” I asked, then immediately realized that everything might’ve just gotten screwed up.

I’d been hoping for an adult. A kid might not know, or care, about who owned the car. They could easily just say “no” and the front door would never have to come open.

To my surprise, the sound of the door unlocking greeted my ears. It came open, and before me stood a boy who looked like he couldn't be any younger than ten. I couldn’t quite confirm his race. The short cut, straight black hair mixed with the skin complexion was throwing me. I figured he was a white boy who tanned very well, or he was mixed. “That’s my mom’s car,” the boy said. “Is something wrong with it?”

“The outside lights are on,” I informed.

“God.” He sighed and rolled his eyes. “Again?”

He turned away from the door and began walking into the house’s front room.

“Mom! Where are your –” he started to yell as he walked.

“Hey, hey, half-pint. Volume,” another voice cut in.

Leading off of the front room to the right was a hallway. From down the hallway came the owner of the voice.

“Your mother isn’t feeling too good right now,” they said. “Why are you yelling?”

“This guy at the door just told me that she left her car lights on again. I was gonna go and turn ‘em off…”

The owner of the voice looked over at me at that moment. I’d already frozen the moment they'd come into my line of sight, filled with an unhealthy dose of shock and…well, terror. From the medium cut black hair, to the roundish, clean-shaven face, to the eyes that where the lightest, nicest shade of brown I’d ever seen; live and in person before me was the man from my nightmares.

I can honestly say that I'd come to the house not knowing what to expect once the door came open. I can also honestly say that I never expected this.

“Uh…Jessie?” The boy’s voice broke through the wave of freak out that was coming over me.

I snapped myself back to normalcy. It was just in time to notice that the other guy seemed to be reacting in a similar way.

“Huh?” the man’s response was distant.

“You okay?” the boy asked.

The man recently named as Jessie nodded.

“Just fine,” he replied. “The keys are in your mother’s purse in the kitchen. And when you go out there this time, turn off the lights without turning anything else on.”

Whatever concern the boy had was gone. He shot in the direction I assumed the kitchen was in to get the keys. My eyes followed him until he was out of sight. They then went back to Jessie, only to find his eyes already on me.

“I apologize if we have and just I don’t remember, but, have we met before?” he asked.

I was glad he’d broken the ice. My ability to do so seemed to have taken a break.

“I uh…was just about to ask you the same question,” I answered, glad my ability to speak was not on break, but un-glad that I couldn’t think of anything better to say.

“Okay, good, then it’s not just me,” he said.

“No. I guess – ”

“Excuse me!” The voice of the boy signaled his presence and his pardon, as he came bolting past me headed to do his task.

Little monkey actually startled me.

“Hey!” Jessie called to him, causing the kid to skid to a stop in his tracks. “That was rude, Elliott. You don’t excuse yourself when you’re already in process of doing what you’re excusing.”

The excitement on the boy, Elliott’s, face dulled. His eyes moved from Jessie to me.

“Sorry about that, sir.” He apologized, hanging his head a little.

“Don’t worry. It’s okay.” I accepted.

Head drooping a bit lower, Elliott returned to his task, albeit at a much slower speed.

“Sorry about him. One track mind sometimes.” Jessie gave a second apology once Elliott had gone around the corner.

“It’s okay. We both survived.” I accepted.

“Thanks for letting us know about the lights. We weren’t going anywhere else tonight and my fiancé would not have been happy if her battery was dead in the morning.”

“Not a problem. I've been there, and done that. Happy to save you that hassle.”

Jessie’s eyes narrowed slightly. I felt his gaze on me intensify.

“What’s your name?” he asked, his gaze returning to normal.

“Donnie,” I answered.

“Odd question, Donnie, do you smoke? Cigarettes, I mean?”

“Uh, yeah. Socially at least.”

“Wanna join me in the yard for one?”

“Yeah. Sure.”

I expected him to go and fetch his pack of cigarettes and/or lighter. Instead, he came outside and shut the door behind him. I stepped down out of the way as he exited then, followed him out into the yard. We went over toward the tree and took a stand there.

Jessie took out a pack of cigarettes from his left pocket, opened it, and took out a cigarette.

“I hope blacks are all right,” he said, handing it to me.

“Brand doesn’t matter. They all taste the same to me unless its menthol versus regulars.” I replied, taking the cigarette.

Taking out one for himself, he put the pack back into his pocket and brought out a lighter. He used it to light his cigarette, before handing it to me to do the same. I did, then handed the lighter back. It’d been awhile since I’d toked on a cancer stick. Hope I didn’t choke.

Elliott, done with his task, returned from the parking lot and walked up to the house. The dullness on his face from earlier was gone. He noticed us standing in the yard.

“Do you need the keys or should I put ‘em back?” he asked.

“You can put them back, but leave the front door unlocked please,” Jessie answered.

“Duh.” Elliott gave Jessie a look to compliment the words.

“Don’t ‘duh’ me. You’re the one with the short memory.”

Elliott’s expression switched into one of contradiction.

“It’s not that short. Give me some credit,” he disagreed.

“Okay…some,” Jessie said.

“Thank you. That’s all I ask.”

He continued onward back into the house and shut the door behind him.

“Now he might lock the door out of spite,” I said, knowing the thought would’ve crossed my mind at that age.

“That’s fine. I know how to pick my battles. I’ve got my keys on me,” Jessie replied.

That should’ve been just a basic statement meant to pass in the wind, but that’s not how it hit me. It took me back to a detail from the nightmares. In them, the man was always prepared for whatever happened no matter what it was. Too bad that didn’t always benefit me.

“Good move,” I said.

“Kids make you stay three steps ahead. You have any?”

“Nah. Never got around to it.”

“What do you mean? You don’t look that old.”

I smiled a little at the comment. I was used to hearing it, or some variant of it, whenever someone asked me about having kids.

“I might look like I’m twenty, but I’m pushing forty. Good luck trying to find a woman who wants to have kids this late in life,” I replied.

“Hey, you never know. And if all else fails, you can always go younger.”

“And be somebody’s sugar daddy? Nah, I’m not that desperate…yet.”

Jessie grinned a little at the comment. “I didn’t say that young.”

“Those are the only ones who’d want to have kids. Even women in their thirties are like: Nah, ain’t nobody got time for that. I’ve got to go to work in the morning.”

Jessie’s grin became a full on smile and he laughed a little.

Silence settled between us as we provoked cancer to mess with us. I didn’t know what was going through Jessie’s head, but a billion things were crashing around in mine. Capital among them was, of course, how what was happening happening without me being asleep. I also hadn’t overlooked the conversation between Jessie and me. The way we’d just interacted…

“All right,” Jessie began, pushing silence to the side, “this is already strange enough, so I’m just going to put it out there. I think I know where I’ve met you before. Am I wrong to say that you think know where you’ve met me?”

Not in the least. And as I got ready to answer, I felt a strange sense of unsettlement in the pit of my stomach.

“You’re not,” I answered.

Jessie took a drag off of his cigarette and exhaled slowly. His face didn’t change to indicate he’d heard what I’d said. Just as I was about to say something, he looked over at me. His eyes seemed to reflect the same unsettlement I was feeling physically.

“So… do you know what a screamer is?” he asked in a lowered voice.

The unsettlement in my stomach suddenly burst into a batch of angry butterflies.

“That's what we call the…creatures who scream. The ones who usually alert all the others,” I answered, keeping my voice lowered as well.

I watched as confusion fought to take over Jessie's eyes at my words.

“Holy shit.” He gasped quietly.

The confusion increased its muscle on him.

“How the hell is this happening? You're not...supposed to be real,” he inquired, still speaking low.

“I’m trying to figure that same thing out about – ”

The sound of the front door of the house opening caught both mine and Jessie’s attention. I expected it to be Elliott coming back out for whatever reason. That’s not who it was. It was a woman. She was the same complexion as Elliot and looked to be about my height; five foot nine inches. Her black hair was tied back in a bun and her pretty face looked tired.

“Jessie, honey…” she started to speak before her eyes fell on me.

The look that came to her face didn’t appear bad, but it didn’t necessarily hint at good either.

“You’re finally here,” she said.

It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that she was speaking to me.

“What do you mean?” Jessie asked, speaking in a regular tone, as he looked from the woman, to me, then back to her, “do you know this man, Shelly?”

“Come inside.” The woman I now knew as Shelly beckoned. “Both of you.”

Neither one of us moved. Me, because I had no idea who this woman was, yet she seemed to know enough about me to know that I was coming. As for Jessie, I assumed he’d been thrown for a loop by the sudden turn of events.

“Tonight, gentlemen,” she reiterated. “Every second you’re out here together is a second to be seen.”

“By?” I asked.

“You want to know?”

She pushed the front door back open, turned around, and walked back into the house. I stared at the open door for a moment before I turned to Jessie.

“Can we trust her?” I asked in a low voice, knowing that it was a silly question considering he knew the woman, but I didn’t know what else to say.

“It’s either that, or stay out here and find out what she meant about us being seen,” Jessie replied. The look in his eyes told me that my question hadn’t been so silly after all.

“Then, I guess we better go.”

“But let's keep our shit together. We have no idea what's going on here, yet. Stay ready.”

I nodded, feeling the angry butterflies in my stomach attempt to fly up into my throat. What he’d just said was not unfamiliar in the least. It was the kind of talk that would normally be heard between us in the nightmare just before the shit hit the fan, and the running and fighting would began.

“You know I will,” I replied, as I flicked my nearly spent cigarette out toward the street.

Jessie copied my motion. Without any more words between us, we headed into the house to see what Shelly had to say.

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