The Reoccurring Nightmares

One day in the summer.

The sun beat down relentlessly, the heat radiating through his clothes and stifling him. He was so used to being cold, but with this weather, it felt like every ounce of warmth had been leached from him. He was sweating as he trudged through a small copse of trees. It wasn't that far from his home, maybe five minutes tops, but he couldn't bear to think about how much it would suck to be caught by his parents while he was outside. He didn't want them to find him, even if they were just passing by; he was still sick, and no one knew about it. But then again, who cares, he thought. Nobody would know anyway because you're dead, you idiot, a voice inside his head whispered. He shoved it away and tried his hardest not to look back. It was easier said than done though because there was nowhere else for him to go. Even if there was, he wouldn't have wanted to go anywhere near that damned place anymore. He'd rather be out here, sweating buckets in the blistering sunlight, than sitting around in some stupid town hall discussing taxes or whatever.

It took what seemed like an eternity before he finally came upon a small clearing. The sun glinted off of something on the ground. He walked over cautiously, making sure to avoid any sharp sticks that could hurt him. He crouched down to take a better look at whatever it was. A few feet closer and he got a good look at it. There lay, half-buried in the dirt, a pair of shoes. What are the chances that they found me, he wondered?

He reached up tentatively, careful not to get too close. One hand brushed against cold plastic. Was it a bottle of water? He grabbed it gingerly, testing its weight before taking a tentative sip. It tasted alright, so that was good. He looked down at the rest. A pair of glasses, a couple of books, a wallet... All of which belonged to a boy he hadn't seen since middle school. And all of them, except for the glasses, were covered in blood. The boy's hands were covered in blood as well. No, not blood, he realised. His clothes.

His mind spun as he attempted to process what he was seeing. He was lying in a puddle of his blood, the boy's body a few feet to his left. He must have hit his head when falling from the tree. The only question now is did I kill him? He was fairly certain the other boy had died instantly, or so he hoped. But what if he hadn't? Could he have gotten out alive? If he was lucky, he might be able to make it back home before his parents noticed.

As though sensing his presence, a faint sound came from behind him. He whirled around, only to see nothing, and the woods once more. He shook his head to try and clear it and began making his way back toward his house.

He was walking briskly, eager to put as much distance between him and the forest as possible when suddenly his foot slipped, sending him tumbling forward. He landed face first, scraping his cheek along the ground, causing blood to flow freely. He groaned and pushed himself into a sitting position. He looked around him frantically. Nothing. Everything was still and silently saved for his heavy breathing. Slowly, he picked himself up and brushed the grass off his shirt and pants. That's when he saw it. The boy's glasses lay a short distance ahead, reflecting the sun brilliantly. He picked them up and examined them carefully.

"I'm not going back there," he mumbled angrily. He shoved the glasses roughly into the front pocket of his jeans. His eyes drifted to the sky. It was getting dark already. The sky was turning from orange to pink. With an annoyed sigh, he began walking again. He didn't know what time it was; he didn't feel inclined to check. It didn't matter anyway. He was going back to his house where he had made a promise to himself that he would never set foot in this goddamn forest again.

***

He woke up in a panic, drenched with sweat. This nightmare kept replaying in his mind, each night lasting hours on end and yet somehow seeming to last no longer than a few seconds. The same thing had happened three times in as many nights. Sometimes he dreamed that he was back in the woods with the boy, sometimes he dreamt that he was home in bed with his parents.