City On Fire

Ella Morae clutched the ends of her pillow whispering softly to herself to wake up. It was a dream. She knew it was a dream, a nightmare rather but she couldn’t wake up. She was stuck in a dark limbo, clutched and held down by tendrils of fear that showed no sign of letting her go. Beads of sweat laced her fore head and a delicate trail of blood rand down the corner of her mouth, she had bitten through her lip again. It was never the same nightmare. It was always different but always terrifying and as always she knew it was just that. A God damn nightmare, but more than anything she knew she couldn’t wake up. This place had been her last resort. The Lake Rise Sleep Clinic in Good Hope City was a quite spot of nature well outside the city and its estimated 37 thousand citizens. It was a place with a good reputation for both the treatment of its patients and its success rate. That was why she had made the arrangements to come here. To get the help she needed and wanted. Ella had barely made it through high school, passed but barely. More than that, she was scolded regularly for falling asleep in class, not attending after school events and, of course, crucified by teachers and students for her reclusive tendencies. All because of this curse. Ella rolled over onto her other side and curled into a ball still holding the blood stained pillow. “Lucas” She was crying because of the name. A name she didn’t know and a face she could not see nor had seen before. She was running. Running from something or is it someone? All the while calling for this ‘Lucas’ character. Suddenly the darkness was gone and she stood in front of a massive stone building. She didn’t recognise it but it looked devastated. Frankly, it looked as if it had been caught in an explosion. As soon as the thought came to mind she felt her heart sink, that kind of a feeling was never anything good. Not knowing what else to do she called out again. “Lucas!” No answer but she was quickly regretting turning around. All round her were similar brick buildings in even worse shape barley illuminated by moonlight seeping in through the heavy rain clouds and occasional bursts of lightning. It looked like a warzone. Again she wished she had thought of a better description of the place. But then again, what would she call it? It looked like it looked, call it however you want. Ground zero, warzone, whatever. “Please help” It was less of a voice and more of a shadow which simply meant that although she heard it, it wasn’t really there. Never the less she looked around the rubble and former brick structures for some kind of indication of where it may have come from. It was so dark she had to tread carefully. Having gone to bed barefoot she was barefoot in the dream as well and anyone who has ever said dreams can’t hurt you has no idea what their talking about. She had the scars and burses to prove it. A siren shattered the night and she fell to her knees, although she was unsure why. It was an instinct she didn’t bother placing, pretty soon it wouldn’t matter. She crawled up against a destroyed wall and held her hands over her head. It was faint but she could hear footsteps and they were getting dangerously close. Another instinct told her that the owner of the size nine boots was not her friend. Where did she get the notion that the boot was size nine? No bloody idea. Again she reminded herself that she needed to stop assigning such violent descriptions to what she saw or thought. While she argued with her choices in descriptive nouns the siren stopped and in its place where the voices of hundreds softly sobbing while others cried and begged for their lives. “Please! Please I beg you, don’t do this.” The man’s crying was snuffed out when a gunshot ripped through the air. A number of women screamed and Ella didn’t need to look behind the wall to know that the man’s life had been sniffed out. She clasped her hands over her mouth to stop her cries from being heard and shook violently. This was g******e. She shut her eyes and tried to wake up but no such luck. She didn’t know if it was the Zolpidem or the fear or what the hell it could be but she was not waking up. s**t, again with the violent descriptive nouns. There was another set of footsteps approaching, size four. She couldn’t help but think small feet and all that... “Weep lost lams, weep for you have turned from God!” It was size four, even if religious credo was the last ting Ella expected. “Please o great prophet! I beg you, let my baby live.” A woman begged through her tears as an infant cried. “My child, I have given warning, more than once. Still you chose the path of the wicked. Do not beg me lost lamb, go now and beg before God.” Gunfire again erupted amongst the loud screams and cries. Even Ella couldn’t take it anymore. She covered her ears and closed her eyes before letting out as loud a scream as she could. Maybe, just maybe, she could scream herself awake or at least alert one of the orderlies. It didn’t work as well as she thought and the gunfire took forever to stop. However it was far worse when it finally did. There was the smell of copper in the air and a thick dust cloud hung over everything but the worst was probably when she opened her eyes and found herself on her knees in the centre of the bloody mayhem. Both size nine and size four were gone. She screamed through her tears as blood slowly soaked into her clothes. The dead bodies around her all had their eyes focused on her. The worst part was the way they looked at her, alive and pleading. Getting back to her feet she tried getting away but there were too many bodies and even more eyes. Finally she turned to run but tripped over a chunk of debris and landed face down on a bed of spent automatic shells. She didn’t move and she didn’t open her eyes. Why wasn’t anyone trying to wake her? Why did she have to see all this? Why did this have to happen? No one should have to see this, no one! “Please” The voice was back again. “Please” Although she tried she couldn’t ignore the plea and opened her eyes, regretting it before it was even done. To her horror she looked right into the face of a little girl no more than six with three bullet holes in her head. She was the one begging for help. “Please help” Suddenly Ella was ripped from the horror around her and woke to three familiar voices and a familiar bright light. “Come on Ella, come back to us.” Charley had a hand on her arm, shaking it to get her attention while Duncan, pale with worry, shined a small flashlight in her eyes as he lifted her eyelids. Seated next to her on the bed was Mrs. Delanie who shook her by her shoulders. “Come on child, wake up.” Ella shot upright screaming bloody murder and scrambled away from everyone’s touch. Pressed up against the wall and shaking with fear in her eyes she looked at her company. Seeing that it was them brought with it a degree of calm and the sunlight streaming in through her window set her further at ease. It was over. The nightmare was gone and the fear was slowly being drowned out by sadness. Ella pulled up her knees and started crying. “Come no child, it’s all right.” Mrs. Delanie shifted on the bed and pulled the hysterical girl into her arms. She stroked her hair and rocked her back and forth. Ella felt secure and even safe surrounded by the people who she knew cared for her but she was very much distraught and the small white room seemed to reflect the lingering images of the night’s g******e.