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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

300 Letters - 79. Letter 78 (You pushed me into the pool. Why?)

Letter 78

14 April 2016

 

 

Dear C,

It's quite unusual for me to be writing a letter to you in the morning, but it's 10.30 am now and I just got back from the gym. I am properly tired but good tired.

Last night I had another weird dream and I couldn't shake it off of my mind. I wanted to tell you all about it - as much as I remember hence I am writing in the morning. That dream was really twisted. Actually no, it wasn't twisted. It was totally fucked up.

I was out of prison. They let me go. I was ecstatic. But I soon realized I had nowhere to go. Nowhere to sleep, no roof over my head. I decided to walk to London and even though I knew it would take me days - I didn't mind.

And then there I was: London city. I ended up in a place you are currently living with your mum, sister and brother. I got an empty room to sleep overnight. No furniture, no bed no nothing. But I was happy I had a warm place to sleep. I didn't even mind sleeping on the floor. Beds here aren't any better than the floor anyway.

You knew I was there but you never bothered to come and see me. Not even to check if I was ok (it is probably a reflection of how you are really feeling about me now).

I heard many people downstairs and I knew they were your friends - you guys all laughed very loud. I kept laying in the corner on the floor, trying to make sense of all of this.

Then the door opened and I saw some woman looking at me. I realized it was Sarah. She saw me and started to throw stones at me. She was laughing so loud and I could hear you shouting to her to make sure she aimed to my face and to throw those stones really hard. I tried to cover my face as much as I could, but she didn't miss a single bit and I started to feel the warmth of my blood all over my face. I didn't feel the pain, all I could feel was the blood dripping off me and I was scared that I would stain the carpet in this room.

Then she left and everything went quiet.Time stood still.

Then your mother came to the door and told me I needed to leave the house at 3 in the morning as you were all going on a trip to France. I looked at the clock on the wall (which wasn't there in the first place before) and it was already 3.30 am so I had to leave.

I came downstairs and the house was totally empty. I walked outside a bit and found a park. I laid down on a bench there. I remember feeling extremely cold.Then another thing happened.

My auntie and her children appeared - Maciek and Monika. But as kids. My auntie gave me a jacket to cover myself. She also gave me a business card of some guy who could give me some job.

When I woke up I went for that interview. But it wasn't London anymore. The city reminded me more of Hong Kong (or at least as I remembered it). I found the address and I had to pass through a long garden with a massive swimming pool inside.

As I was passing by the pool you suddenly appeared and pushed me inside. Why? Some guy who stood there watching then shouted that I couldn't attend that interview anymore because all my clothes were wet. And then I panicked. I realized I was wearing the watch you bought me for my birthday in 2014 and that watch wasn't waterproof. I nearly cried that something I got from you could get damaged.

I raised my left hand above the water praying for this watch to work, but it didn't anymore.

And then this happened.The numbers from the clock's face started to float in the air right in front of me. They were spinning around and finally, they created this number: 38. Why 38? What did it mean?

I looked around and I was back in my cell. It was all painted black with 38 written across the wall above my bed.

Then I woke up.

The first thing I did was I looked at my wall, but there was no number on it. Just some photos. Nothing unusual.

 

At the gym, I couldn't stop thinking about that dream. What is up with that 38 number? I don't understand this at all. You know, dreams like this drain me.I feel emotionally exhausted and I can't stop thinking about the fact how cruel you have always been in those dreams. All of them. It kills me the most.

I'm going to take a shower now. I smell after the gym. Maybe water can wash away the memory of that dream.

 

Forever yours,

Sebastian

Copyright © 2018 Sebastian Bauer; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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