The nightmare at the end of the dream

Sometimes nightmares seem real, and other times life itself is a nightmare.

Sweat streams down my temple, rolls down my face, and drips cold and sticky on my neck and chest. I hear a ticking. No, there's no ticking. Not yet. But soon...

The ender slumbers tightly wrapped around my torso, patiently awaiting for me to press the button and wake it up. The only thing ticking is my heart. I can feel it bashing against the bones of my rib cage; sweating with fear - along with the rest of my body " and praying to whatever god might be willing to listen and able to help. Poor heart! How it agonizes in anticipation of our imminent and tragic demise! Little does it know that all this worrying is useless. I cannot go back.

The weight of the ender gets heavier by the second, and I can barely drag my shaky legs through the crowd. The mall is swarming with people of all shapes and sizes and ages and colors. Has the entire city decided to come to the mall today? Was there nothing else they could do? Nowhere else they could go to?

Everything weighs so much....My body. My conscious. The thing I must do. The sudden realization that my journey will end here and now, in this mall. This is the last thing I'll ever see.

My right thumb caresses the red button. Red like the blood that will wreathe my body. Red like the dress my sister wore on her fourteenth birthday. Red like the lipstick mom puts on every time she goes out to dinner with dad. Red like the cherries in the painting hanging on my bedroom wall. My bedroom...I'll never see my bedroom again. I'll  never sit on the bed and gaze out the window at the people funneling up and down the street. I'll  never listen to music while scribbling down one of my lyrics. I'll never - 

I'm leaving behind too many I' ll never's! It shouldn't be like this! I didn't choose this cursed path that thrusts only forward and has no turning-back signs. Someone else has made the choice. Someone else has traded my life for a sacrifice I have never agreed to wholeheartedly. 

I peer around the mall, trying hard to betray no fear and to conceal the true purpose of my presence. If only I could open my mouth and scream, “Run! Run!”  But I can't speak anymore. My tongue has been cut off, and my voice can no longer utter words. It can only make a strange animal-like noise. How befitting! In the end, maybe it is more suiting for me to go out as an animal rather than a human being. My last act on Earth is far from humane.

The tension crushes my windpipe. I'm breathless. The time is near. Before hitting the  button and switching off the world, I glance around for one last time, taking in the colors, the laughs, the hopeful face. This is a nice last image.

No more delaying. Guess, this is good a moment as any other. My thumb slowly pushes down the button. The ticking begins. I should have told mo... 



I'm panting. No air feeds my lungs. My clothes are soaked with sweat, and my mouth is dry. Dread clenches my heart into its fists. Frightened, I looked around me. 

Morning shimmers behind the curtains, drawing rickety shadows on the floor and on the furniture. Yellowish rays climb up the wall opposite to the bed and cast a rich golden warmth over the cherries - that glow redder than ever - in my favorite painting. A dream, I sigh with relief. Yes, it was a mere dream. To me. But what about others? Is my dream only a dream to them too, or is it a waking nightmare?

Author's Note

I wrote this a while back and poseted it on another site ( Writing.com). From all I have written so far, this story has been the hardest one to put into words. I don´t know why.
As always, reviews are most welcomed.