Far from Normal

Something was plastered all over the windows. Dark, gooey, thick. Was that what I thought it was? Fear rushed over me; I could feel myself go pale. My feet betrayed me as they slowly crept forward towards the approaching train.

What happened? Is that part of the act? Did they add something new? Were questions being tossed around by new bystanders approaching the Wild, Wild West Train Experience.

"They don't use blood as a prop on this exhibit, and they haven't had any new updates," another young prospect responded to the many questions.

Did he say blood? It appeared that my suspicions were confirmed. I had planned on being on that one but had been running behind as usual.

The train came to a stop, the conductor stumbled off, the same substance from the windows covered the front of him and more. He was visibly shaking, in a state of shock. His words were whispers coming from his lips.

"This was supposed to be a fun experience," his shaky voice cracked.

My feet, still betraying me, ran us to him to help give him support assisting him to a nearby bench. By the sound of the sirens, it was safe to assume someone had called 911.

"He just blew it up. He... He..." the conductor struggled, forcing the words out.

"Who blew it up?" I asked.

My gaze followed a shaky finger pointing back to the train. Shadows appeared in the windows through the goo. The pressure around us grew heavy. Figures grew more prominent. A heavy dark shadow of a man appeared in the doorway where the conductor had left from. Nobody else in my surroundings seemed to notice him. I could see he had on a cowboy hat, a trench coat and cowboy boots. He appeared to fit the part except something was off. I could make out something bulky under his large coat.

From the shadow under his hat, I could see a cold smile spread across his face...

I jerked myself out of bed, out of another terrifying dream. My dreams had been reoccurring nightmares over the course of the last year. Different dreams ending with the same cold smile. One night it may be about train, another night a coffee shop, or a bookstore or the gym. Sometimes a museum or even my own house. Always ending with that same cold smile on a face I could never make out or see.

I took in a deep breath, flopped myself back on my pillows. Glancing over at my alarm clock on my nightstand I noticed it was only a few minutes off from going off. Imagine if my loud alarm clock would have gone off, I probably would have seen the explosion this time, I thought to myself.

Once my alarm went off, I got myself out of bed and began my normal morning routine. This consisted of making a quick smoothie, filling my water bottle and getting ready for the gym. It was a pretty normal morning so far. Wake up from a bad dream, check. Drink my smoothie too quickly, check. Get a great work out in, check. It seemed it was going to be a normal day.

After I showered and got myself dressed, I grabbed my favorite sweater, car keys and laptop and headed to my favorite little coffee shop. Once I got there, I ordered one of my usual drinks, this time a chai tea late, sat at my favorite table in the corner and put myself to work.

I, of course, am a writer. These days it feels as if everyone is. Or at least in the media. Writing has always come natural to me. A way to be creative and loud without having to use my voice or have my face thrown on camera. Words always came easy to me. Even when I had a writer's block I could simply settle in at a park and begin thinking of stories that could have happened. Fiction of course. Stories of what happened before there was a park there, or after. Fun adventures that would only be possible by words.

I should say a part of me always wanted to be a part something bigger than just me. Something that meant something, or something that could change the world. So far, I just have my words. But sometimes I do think my dreams could have some sort of meaning.

Sitting at my normal table in the corner, out of the way from everyone I sipped my late. My laptop was opened, plugged in and ready for my creative juices to indulge into another adventure from my mind. Just as a began to type I could feel eyes drawn to me. This was unusual because no one ever looked my way.

I tried to ignore it, I even put my headphones on to appear that I did not want to be bothered. But I couldn't shake the feeling. I also couldn't get much work done feeling this uneasy. Closing my laptop and taking my headphones off I looked around the coffee shop.

My heart started pounding as I locked eyes with a man sitting in the opposite corner of the store staring at me. He had on a trench coat, like the one from my dreams. I tried not to appear panicked as I grabbed my things. I threw the remains of my drink away and headed for the door. My car was parked right in front, I knew it would be a quick getaway for me. As I reached my car, I dropped my keys.

Of course, that's what always happens in the scary movies huh, the thought crossed my mind so quickly. Relax, you know better than to judge someone. Just breath.

I placed my things on the hood of my car as a bent down to grab my keys. I could feel the air around me stiffen. He was behind me, and I froze. This was far from normal.