Sweet Dreams Are Made of These...

This is just a dream I had a few nights ago...I THINK I lived in it, but I don't really remember...sorry...BAD LANGUAGE!!!! WARNING WARNING!!!!!

               It hurts to get stabbed; trust me, you really don't want it to happen to you. While heading home after a little jog of mine, I got "lucky" enough to feel the unbearable pain that it brings.

               It started by me making my usual rounds around the neighborhood, jogging my steady pace with my iPod in my ears. I saw a bunch of thugs bagging on this little kid, and I decided it would be the right thing to help the kid out. So, I popped one of my ear buds out and walked over to the thugs, trying to walk as tall as possible and ignore the nagging thought that this was a bad idea.

               "Hey," I shouted, "cut that out, you damn thugs. It's just a little kid."

               One of the criminals turned towards me and smirked. Little did I know he was packing a knife up his sleeve. He chuckled darkly before stating, "F**k you, b***h. We can do whatever the hell we wanna do."

               I stopped walking towards them and smirked my own little dark smirk. "Whatever, you sons of b*****s," I laughed. "I bet your bark is way worse than your bite."

               The thugs' smirk grin disappeared as he began to walk slowly towards me. I started walking backwards so I didn't get too close to the disgusting low-life, but his arms were long; he grabbed my arm before I could get any farther away.

               "F**k you!" he shouted. Before I could pull away, he jammed a sharp metal blade into my stomach, pulling back quickly to tell his friends to run. While they were making their quick retreat, I was keeling over in pain, holding my deep wound with both of my now blood-covered hands. I squinted my eyes shut and screamed my loudest scream, wasting all the air in my lungs. Once my scream was done, I re-opened my eyes to find the kid the thugs were beating up on gone as well; probably running back to his house to tell his Mommy of his traumatic experience.

               My vision blurred as I lost more blood. I was too far away from home to go there, and the closest friend I had was a field and fence away. Although I could jump the fence and run the field normally, I had no idea what I was capable of with a hole in my stomach. But, I figured I might as well give it a try; it was a better idea than just laying down to die.

               I made my feet move sluggishly at first, shuffling inch by inch towards the field that signified my freedom and life. Once my feet hit the soft grass, I ran as fast as I could--which, lemme tell you, wasn't very fast. But it didn't matter; I was making progress, and that's all I really cared about.

               After about two minutes, I reached the end of the field. I didn't know how I could have suffered this much blood loss and still be alive, but I miraculously did. Now, staring at the seven-foot-tall fence, I was starting to have some doubts.

               I keeled over and coughed, crimson liquid coming out of my mouth. Colors were blending together in what looked like a twisted rainbow, and I swayed back and forth on my feet, closing my eyes tightly.

               C'mon, Stevenson! I encouraged mentally. You can do this! It's a tiny little fence; you can jump it easy.

               My mental pep-talk motivated me to open my eyes and look up at the fence. I can do this. I placed one foot gently in one of the chain-links, gripping onto another one with my bloody hand. I did the same with my other foot and hand, wincing every time I stretched my stomach too far. I coughed up my scarlet blood every thirty seconds or so, and tears began to stream down my face even more. I was getting closer to the top of the fence, smiling to myself in triumph.

               I finally made it over, jumping down clumsily on the other side of the fence. I held my wound tightly, trying my best to jog over to my friend Sephone's house. It wasn't that far away; just one more house and I was there.

               After another excruciating minute, I finally reached the tan house I knew so well. I tried my best to scream for help, but all that came out was another bloody cough. So, I began to walk to the door...only to collapse half way across the vacant street. I looked up at the house in helplessness, trying to make some kind of sound to alert someone of my status and placement. The only thing I could do, though, was gargle and spit out my own blood. My vision began to fade to black, and my stomach pain began to fade away. I felt lighter and lighter, as if I was floating out of my body.

               No! I am not going to die! I thought fiercely. I shook my head as violently as I could, getting back on my feet slowly. I walked slowly--oh, so slowly--towards Sephone's door. I reached it and rang the door bell, using the last bit of my energy to do so. I soon collapsed after that, my thoughts venturing to if anyone was even home or not. If they weren't, I was screwed; I was going to die on their doorstep.

               I closed my eyes, waiting for someone to open the door and come to my rescue. Or not; I never really knew what was going to happen.

               After laying there and bleeding for at least five minutes, the door suddenly opened. "Oh, my God, Cali!" Sephone's voice chimed, barely hearable over my nearly-dead ears. "Dad! Call 9-1-1! Cali got stabbed! She needs help!"

               I tried to mutter my thanks, but when I opened my mouth a flood of blood rushed out, causing a stifled shriek of Seph's. She knelt down next to me, muttering calm and soothing words. "It's okay," she cooed, "it's fine. It's okay...Dad! Call the cops!"

               "Th-thank...you..." I managed.

               "Of course, Cali...of course..."

               After that, I lost my consciousness, listening to approaching ambulance sirens as I went under.       

Author's Note

Sorry if it's low on details...I don't remember much of the dream...