《Missing Memories》


 The First Dream

    ¡®The most traumatic experience in my life happened when I was young, much younger than I am now. I¡¯ve only heard stories of the accident. How my mother dragged my limp body out of the car and the multiple times my heart failed to beat. Doctors say my memories of the day may never come back. It¡¯s a protection mechanism apparently, where certain times in our lives may seem fuzzy or won¡¯t come to mind at all. The trauma of the incident would likely be too much to bear.


    For some reason, not just the incident won¡¯t come to mind though. I can¡¯t remember even a minute of my childhood before the incident. This wouldn¡¯t be overly concerning except for the dreams that began a few days ago. Dreams of grandeur and frightening realism all set during different periods of my childhood.¡¯


    ¡°Hey, Tim! How are the new advertisements coming along?¡± I quickly snapped back to reality and minimized the story I was writing as my boss Jeremy walked up. He was a tall, rather handsome guy with a beard that made him appear more as a lumberjack than a middle manager.


    ¡°Morning Jerry! I¡¯m almost done with the first five. We should be able to send them out for testing tomorrow.¡± I showed him the half-finished advertisement I had pulled up on my computer. The image of a smiling man celebrating with friends was all I had for the advertisement so far.


    Jerry smiled and said, ¡°Great job! And I hope to see you at the bar this weekend! Just you and me partying like the old days. Just with a lot more money and a much worse tolerance for alcohol.¡±


    I chuckled and swiveled toward him, ¡°Speak for yourself.¡± I patted the beer gut that was beginning to form. A desk job and little free time had not been great on my body. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t miss it though. We haven¡¯t been able to go out like this in years.¡± It was then Jerry¡¯s secretary appeared, whispered something in his ear, and with a quick goodbye, he went hurrying off to whichever section of the company now needed him.


    My smile slowly dropped once more as I swiveled back towards the luminescent screens of my monitors. Jerry and I go back to our college days where we were roommates as freshmen. He was always the more outgoing one. Always being involved in campus activities and the like. I was his exact opposite. I disliked many of the activities frats, sororities, and the student government threw together. It¡¯s not that I disliked other people I am just a much more withdrawn person than others and prefer spending time alone. This never stopped Jerry from inviting me out with his friends, to social events, and eventually offering me this job. I owe him more than I could ever hope to repay. With his help, I became much more outspoken and confident in who I am. Other than the small gut I now had I was still in decent shape and had a full head of hair which helped as well. I¡¯m surprised at how many people at thirty-five have receding hairlines or are already bald. It¡¯s a staggering amount when you look for it.This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.


    Before getting even more lost in thought I turned my attention back to the story I had minimized. Thinking again, it might be more appropriate to call it a journal. I began typing once more.


    ¡®My first dream took place two nights ago. In the dream, I was a weak, sickly child in a barren bedroom. I can¡¯t remember the color of the room. Brown maybe? I just know that the room was painted one shade of an awful color. I awoke with a gasp scanning the room unsure of who or where I was. I tried standing up, but my legs crumbled underneath my weight and I fell to the ground in blinding pain. My screams echoed throughout the room only causing me to panic further. Two men came bursting into the room and helped me back up onto the bad. Even after I was laid down the pain wouldn¡¯t stop. With immense difficulty, I looked down only to see a bone sticking out of my right leg. The odd thing is I can remember the color of the bone. It was a deep shade of blue. I didn¡¯t get a good look at either of the men¡¯s faces. One was shouting anxiously on his phone while the other was sitting on the bed next to me holding my hand. I just focused on the warmth of the man¡¯s hand, but the pain was overwhelming. Once I lost consciousness I woke up in my bed at home. That morning I checked my right leg for a scar where the bone was sticking out, but my right leg is covered in scars from the car accident. There¡¯s so many that I can¡¯t pinpoint which one might be from that incident if it ever happened.


    I often don¡¯t put much importance on dreams, but this one was so vivid and I could remember so many details afterward that I haven¡¯t been able to let it go. The dream I had later that day only further increased my hesitation on whether these dreams could be the childhood I have been missing for so long. ¡®


    I saved the document and went back to work on the advertisements I had left untouched for longer than I should have. I needed a break from those memories. The dreams felt too real. It was frightening. I pushed back those memories for the time being and spent the rest of the evening working on and finishing the advertisements. I am always the last one to leave the office so after quickly packing up my laptop and notebook I walked out of the empty office building and drove back home. The sun had already set by the time I arrived back at my two bedroom apartment. I¡¯ve always lived alone. I find coming home to an empty, silent home to be soothing in comparison to a loud, full one. After eating a bland microwavable meal in comfortable silence I laid down in my bed for another dream-filled sleep.

 The second dream

    The dream that night was much more frightening than the one before. I was younger in this dream possibly by a year or two. I was standing at the end of a long, dimly lit hallway. Screams echoed down the hall. Primal screams that initially caused my body to freeze in fear. I stood in that spot for an indiscernible amount of time, but what choice did I have. I began walking towards the source of the screams. Each step caused the floor to bend and creak. The wood flooring had begun to decay with age and use. Lights flickered on and off around me. No one had bothered to change out dead and dying lightbulbs. The lights caused flickering shadows to rise and fall around me, but my momentum couldn¡¯t be halted. Step after step the screams continued to get louder and louder. With steady feet and bated breath, I arrived in front of my destination. A sturdy wooden door towered above me with a fluorescent glow shooting out from the crack underneath it. Shadows of people could be seen hurrying back and forth as the screams continued to get louder and more desperate. The door did not have a handle, but when I reached up to touch the wooden frame in front of me the door burst open. I tumbled backward in fright and the towering silhouette of a man stood in front of me.


    The man slammed the door shut behind him and picked me up by the collar of my shirt. ¡°You¡¯re not supposed to be outside your room. How did you get out?¡±Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    I struggled against the grip holding me up. I flailed back and forth, but the man was much larger and stronger than I was. I looked up at him now only to be more frightened. His figure was still completely blacked out. I opened my mouth to say something, anything but words failed to come out.


    The man grew angry at my lack of response and slammed me against the wall. ¡°Answer me!¡± His shout echoed through the empty hallway. I tried to speak once but again nothing would come out. Not even a whisper.


    The man looked at me angrily before muttering to himself, ¡°Fucking shit for brains. What a failure.¡± The man started to carry me down the hallway. His weight caused the floor to sink down much further, almost dangerously so. At the end of the hall, the man opened up the door to the room on the right and threw me onto the ground. I landed heavily on my shoulder and grunted in pain. He just ignored me and slammed the door shut. The sound of the door being locked quickly followed.


    I woke up drenched in sweat and rushed into the bathroom to vomit what little was in my stomach. The dream was too vivid. Too real. I shakily stood up and started my shower. The rush of warm water helped bring me back into reality. I stayed in that shower much longer than I should have with the current water restrictions in place, but I kept seeing flashes of the dream. The door. The light. The man. The screams. Was it just a bad dream? I didn¡¯t have time for breakfast that morning. Instead, I rushed off to work resigning myself to a hungry day of work.