Hello everyone! I come bearing a new short fic. I wrote this for my Arts and Ideas class a few weeks ago. We had to look at this painting of a skeleton and write a short story inspired by it. Needless to say, this class was about horror, lol. So yes, the title is deceiving.

Title: A Dream Come True
Author: Schmooie/Steph
Rating: R
Characters: ORIGINAL CHARACTERS O_o I know!
Warnings: This is so dark. Seriously, yo. I'm not used to writing shit like this. It's more horror than anything, but not too graphic.
Feedback? Would be AMAZING.

~*~

I stared at the painting hanging in front of me on the deep red wall. A shock of fear ran through my body, making my muscles twitch and jump. It was the same ghastly skeleton that had been haunting my dreams. I would recognize those gleaming white teeth anywhere. Not to mention the grayed bones and malicious grin.

The image had been in my dreams for weeks now. It would suddenly appear, against a black background like the one in the painting. I would wake with a start, drenched in a cold sweat. There was never anything else in the dream, just that skeleton, but nonetheless, it brought a sense of foreboding; a chill of fear that wouldn’t leave me. I had never been one to believe in dreams predicting the future, or even dream symbolism. Until now. It brought a sense of death with it; a grim and gruesome death that I couldn’t even begin to imagine. Not that I wanted to.

Every time I woke, I would sit up for hours, shaken by the sight of those old bones that were trying to convey something to me. What it was trying to warn me of, I wasn’t completely sure, but I had a hunch it was to deal with death.

Would someone I know die?

Someone close to me?

Me?

These thoughts occupied every single part of my day. I was unable to function properly anymore. I needed to be reminded to do the simplest tasks at work as my mind was consumed with thoughts of death, destruction, and despair.

As I stared at the painting before me, I felt my heart race and beads of sweat form on my brow. My chest heaved with each breath I took, a scream welling up inside of me, that I tried my damnedest to suppress. Stumbling away from the piece of art, I walked blindly out of the museum and back to my car. I couldn’t stand to be in the same building as that painting, though I was sure that I wasn’t going to forget this any time soon.

I drove home, letting the radio blast happy pop tunes that I normally wouldn’t listen to in order to get the idea of impending doom out of my head and heart. I distracted myself as I passed the local cemetery, trying not to think about a ghost haunting me for some unfinished business.

Damn, too late.

Was that was this was all about? Was there some unfinished business that a wandering soul needed to finish before he or she could be at peace? I shook my head.

“I’m being crazy,” I said to myself as I walked into the living room. “There is no such thing as ghosts or ghouls, or anything like that!” I came to the conclusion that I was seeing this skeleton because I kept thinking about it. As long as I got my mind off of the creepy vision, I would be able to go on with my life just like I had before; relatively normally.

I went about the rest of my day, doing a lot of menial tasks in order to keep my mind occupied. By the time I went to bed, I had exhausted myself and fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

I was standing in a meadow, possibly on the side of a mountain of some sort. The grass was a bright green, the sun was shining, and the sky was a brilliant blue with small puffs of white clouds interrupting the color. I stood still, just taking in all of my surroundings. The air was crisp and clean, very much unlike the city I lived in now. I was happy. I could tell that much. There was a large smile on my face and such a light feeling in my body that I never wanted to leave.

But then it all changed. Everything around me became pitch black. It closed in on me and I moved forward, trying to get out of the darkness, but I couldn’t. I kept running and running. There was no end in sight.

And then I saw it. The gleaming white teeth in a smile that I was sure was mocking my attempt at escape. The gray bones. I backed up, but no matter how far or how quick I moved, that skeleton was always there. It came closer and a scream welled up in my throat, and exiting.

I woke up screaming once again. I shuffled through the dark and into the bathroom to splash some cold water on my face. I couldn’t figure it out. I hadn’t thought of the skeletal figure all day, yet I still had that same dream. It was the same every time. The only thing that was different was that it actually came close to touching me. I shook my head and went back to bed, somehow knowing that I would sleep peacefully once again.

As the week went by the dreams became more and more frightening. Every night the skeleton got closer, and when it did, muscles and skin started to form on the bones. Each night I woke before I could see the fully formed face. My days were shaky; all of my thoughts on who the person in my dreams was and what that person might be trying to tell me. My hands shook violently as I slid under the covers of my once comforting bed. I dreaded sleep more and more each night, afraid of what I would see. There was nothing I could do to stop them from plaguing me. I even tried staying up all night, but ended up falling victim to the blanket of sleep, only to be woken up by that haunting image, skin growing over it and taking a form.

Tonight was no different.

I was standing in the same meadow, a feeling of peace and calm washing over me. But it soon changed to that black backdrop with the skeleton coming closer and closer. Its hand was reaching out toward me. Its mouth opened into a scream as muscles and skin formed. But this time I didn’t wake up. This time the dream kept going.

I looked up, fear written clearly on my face. I stood cowered against a solid wall as my own face appeared on that of the skeleton, blood coming from the corners of my mouth and my nose. The skin was pale, a bluish tint to my lips, and my eyes were a hollow hazel.

I screamed, bolting upright in bed. The sheets around my body were twisted awkwardly and sweat was dripping from my face. I stepped shakily out of bed and into the shower, trying to clear my mind. I scrubbed at my skin roughly, trying to rid the image of my own dead body from my mind.

I dressed and tried to make myself a pot of coffee, but my hands were shaking so terribly that I was unable to actually fill the pot with the coffee grounds. Instead I sat on my living room couch, staring at the blank spot above the television set. I shook. I rocked myself back and forth. I cried. I screamed.

I had watched the reverse decomposition of my own body. I don’t know how my dream self died, and I didn’t want to know. The image was consuming my thoughts until tears ran down my face and I couldn’t sit still anymore. I needed to get out of the house. I needed to be somewhere where I wouldn’t be reminded of those fearsome images.

I grabbed my car keys, and gunned the gas pedal, trying to keep myself sane enough to drive. I didn’t know where I was going, but I didn’t care. I thought some fresh air would help me. Something in the back of my mind told me to drive up the small mountain at the edge of town. I would go to the same place that had always been able to clear my mind before.

I drove frantically, the images of blue skin, dead hair, and blood floating in front of my eyes. I whimpered lightly, closing my eyes tightly and shaking my head to rid them from my sight. Slowly, new images formed in my head. Images of how I might have died in my dream. I saw gruesome visions of death, each one worse than the one before it.

Attacked from behind.

Hung.

Drowned.

I screamed loudly as I frantically turned the wheel to the right. I tried to keep myself focused on the road, but my mind was elsewhere. It was in a place where I was dead. It was too much for me to handle. I couldn’t help but yell once again and hit the steering wheel in frustration.

The heel of my hand came down on the piece of machinery repeatedly, and finally both hands went flying to my head, trying to rid the images of death that had been haunting me for weeks now.

I paid no mind when my car swerved, finally hitting the pitiful wooden rail that was meant to stop cars from going over the side of the cliff. I felt weightless as the car careened toward the rocky ground below. I stared at my demise. My screaming ceased and I found myself grinning madly.

It was all going to end. There would be nothing more to haunt me.

My dream would come true.

I really liked it..
It has a sense that if we focus too much on the inevetable we get obsessed and the inevetable will find us much sooner.
Obsession is never a good thing no matter how small they are and your story was a tale, it is a very wel known subject for books and movies... if you know the future and try to change or escape it, things just might get out of hand.
And the ending, man that gave me major goosebumps her acceptance the way it all clicked into place.
You described her paranoia, fear and frustration really well.

So i'll stop stop rambling now.
But in case you didn't get it, it was good, really good.

Love, Moon