Story Day - Dream

There are exactly 7 days until Christmas.

One week, you guys. Is it just me or did December fly by even faster than November? And the rest of the year seems to have blown past at record speeds as well. And I used to think a year was a long time. XD

That being said, I'm not going to try and post something Christmas day, so you all get a story a week early! Yay! XP

The Prompt

I had the pleasure of participating (kinda) in Inktober this year, and have managed to come up with a few stories I liked out of the many that were more "meh". But, since I have a whole document of little flashfictions, I figured I'd start sharing those with you for Story Days. This story is from October 1st, the prompt for which was dream.

The Story

My panic quickened my heartbeat as I focused on her hands. I knew what she was trying to do - I knew what she wanted. How had I failed so horribly?

She smiled at me as the magical ribbons between her fingers began to weave at her command, slithering over and under and around in an intricate pattern only she knew. Once, she cursed beneath her breath and started the pattern over, drawing the ribbons through the air between her hands with a power I didn’t know any being possessed.

There was a powder blue one. A lavender. A dusky pink. A navy. A mint green. There was a scarlet one swirled among all the calmer colors - the ribbon that belonged to her husband, vibrant with his life. And, last of all, there was mine. Orange as fire, vivid as my panic and wrath at being used so.

This was the hardest part of the process. I knew it instinctively as she stiffened, her slender fingers trembling slightly as she brought all the ribbon ends together. They had to connect just right, complete the knot at just the right times and angles, or…

I didn’t know what would happen. But I knew she didn’t want it.

Everything in me screamed for me to act and stop this wickedness. But I was powerless, rooted to the spot as the ribbons, floating above her left hand, reached all their ends towards her right, weaving back and forth like serpents rising from a basket at the command of their charmer.

No, I thought. This is bad, bad, bad. But… what will happen if she succeeds?

As if in response to my thought, the pink ribbon’s tips connected.

Blinding light flashed.

When I opened my eyes, I was in a small, underground room. Before me stood the woman and her husband, both smiling at me. “He’s perfect,” she said, reaching towards me. I jerked away.

Her husband studied me. “We don’t really need him now, love,” he replied. “You have his ribbon.”

“Yes.” She reached for me and touched my cheek. I was frozen to the spot. “And I will have his mind.”

“As you wish.” Her husband reached for my arm. I fought him, clawing at his face, knowing the pain that awaited me if he succeeded. But despite the ice that flew from my fingers and the forcefulness of my struggle, he dragged me to a room of fire and torment where my mind was to become theirs. He threw me in and shut the door behind him. And the agony began.

///

When the door finally reopened, the man gestured for me to follow. I got to my feet and did as I was told, everything in me too tired to resist. Too groggy. Too lost. Even the frozen fire in my stomach felt dead.

“Here he is, my dear,” the man announced as he led me to the underground room.

The ribbon weaver stood there, smiling at me. “There you are, my boy!” she cried, and came forward and wrapped her arms around me. “Tell me, how do you feel?”

The dead frost in my gut rekindled with a cold wrath, but I masked it. “Wonderful, mother.”

She gave a gasp of ecstasy and threw herself into her husband’s arms. “You did it! You did it! He is ours!”

He spun her around, and as he did so I fed the cold within me until it was a raging storm. Within moments I was no longer tired, no longer deadened, no longer their brainwashed slave child. I was myself. And I would not stay a moment longer.

Ice erupted from my hands. The man instantly responded with ice of his own, blocking mine and shielding his wife as the door burst open and I ran into the night.

I have to get away.

That was my only thought as I wove through the trees towards the city skyline, my heart pounding in my throat. If I were caught, it would be back to the room of fire for another brainwashing attempt.

I couldn’t do that again.

The man was hot on my tail. In a moment I knew I couldn’t - wouldn’t - escape him.

So I was brought back and “remade” again. Brought forth into that underground room for inspection, where I would escape and run. Captured again and returned to the torment.

Three times this cycle repeated itself. I knew I could not last forever. So when I was brought into the room for the fourth time, I conceived a new plan.

Let them think I was finally brainwashed. Let them think I now saw them as my mother and father. Let them think my mind, body, and powers were completely under their command.

I would bide my time. Trust could be broken both ways.

///

And that was when I woke up.

---

That's a modified version of a dream I actually did have. It's not the best story I've ever written, but it's what kickstarted Inktober this year and so worth sharing. Besides, dreams are interesting. XD

Did you do Inktober this year? How well did you do? What was one of the wackiest dreams you ever had? One of the most fun? One of the most terrifying? Have you ever had the same dream over and over again?

Until next time,

Take courage, pursue God, and smile while you still have teeth!! ;P

-Joelle