|"Bobby's Dream" (standard:Creative non-fiction, 1556 words)|
|Author: jmsmacy||Added: Mar 21 2012||Views/Reads: 1971/1368||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|Bobby has a strange dream; in which he is a part of a huge battle. Upon arriving, he reminisces on his past, and sees where he went wrong. Once done reminiscing, he is attacked and killed by a man that is "of the light". He then wakes up, a|
Let all who have ears to hear, hear, all who have hearts of understanding, understand. “Bobby's Dream” “G'night, Mom!” Bobby shouted as he went to bed. His mom shouted “G'night!” back, then, he crawled into bed- and was quickly knocked out cold. Then he had a dream... The sounds of battle raged all around him. Bobby got up from the ground, and looked around. There were people of all ages, races, and sexes around him- all doing battle with some force that was both seen and unseen, visible and not. Above him flew angels, quickly fighting their counterparts to death. So this is it. Bobby thought, this is the battle I was born to fight. There was no wondering in him where he was, what was going on, or why he was there. It's like a lion wondering these things while chasing down a gazelle- you just don't. It programmed into your DNA, a part of your internal, eternal self, part of your core being- why wonder about what you were born to do, what was inevitable? No. None of these things went through his mind. What did go through his mind was a memory... A reminisce; just for a moment- he was looking at his past, except through a different lens. He remembered sitting down in church... No, before that... He remembered his first day of school... Even before that. He remembered the very day, the very moments, he was born, and right before. He remembered a sensation like waking up from a long sleep, into an environment that was totally new; and foreign. He wondered, what is this? I should not be here. Things are not as they should be. Then, a light- bright and blinding; but artificial- not true light that he was in before he was born. And pain... There were two things on either side of Bobby- one was a cloud of light, like a fog, except the fog made things clearer, unlike normal fog. The other was darkness... Sometimes the light took shape. The light was good, the light was life... But the dark... He remembered before he went to school. He spent those days playing, learning. Learning the strange language that these creatures had learned, playing to learn, but mainly just playing to play; because that's what babies did- what else would we do? We had other people take care of us then; so that we might grow into them- become like them in our knowledge and our maturity, so that we might know what to do. Still there was the light; the goodness, the life- the light was what I needed. The artificial light hurt me, hurt my eyes- but this light helped me, granted me sight... But still the dark was there, ever tempting me... I remember my first day of school... I was standing in line to get on the bus, with my mom waving behind me. I debated for about a second, and then waved back. Then the bus was there, and it was time to go... I am eating lunch with kids I've never seen before. I know that my lunch is weird, it tastes nothing like the food I have tasted, or eaten, before... But, I also know that a boy I have just met- a nice boy, I see lots of light around him, not much dark- it looks like the dark is fighting, trying to break through the light; but it can't. The light is too strong. I know that this boy brought his lunch; and he has an Oreo on top of his container- an Oreo tastes much better than this lunch. He looks away for a second- I reach out and take it. The light fades a little... Now I remember my first day of fifth grade- I have gone to school with all of these people for a while. I know them- I call a few friends. I look at my arms. I see a bunch of dark- not a whole bunch of light. I see now, what I did way back then was wrong... but it's so hard to go back... And the dark is still tempting me; testing me... The light is almost gone... I now remember halfway through seventh grade. I have seen most of these people before; but there are a few I still don't know. I remember Joe from third, Bill from fourth. Both I call friends. I am eating lunch again... The same boy from so long ago has his Oreos, still... I don't think he ever found out... He looks away, I take them again... My friends look at me, appalled. I feel a huge dismay surge within. The Click here to read the rest of this story (74 more lines)
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