Dreams

Prologue

I look, horrified, at the spectacle before me. My bloody mother lies face-down on the floor, motionless. Moving my gaze to my right, I see my father, too, motionless and bloody. His eyes stare unblinkingly at me. I look down slowly at my hands and find his blood glaring at me from them, as well as my clothes.

My mouth attempts to open to scream or vomit, I don't know which, but I can't. Every time I try, it feels like suction trying to extract all of my teeth at once. My breath speeds up with my heart rate and hot tears flow down my face when I—

Kaoru gasped as his eyes snapped open and searched his bedroom. It was dark with very little light from the moon. He sat up in his bed, dripping in nervous sweat. "What kind of dream was that?" he mumbled.

Throwing his feet over the side of the bed, he stood and crossed the room to close the window shades. When he was satisfied, though he wasn't sure what he needed to be satisfied with, he crawled back into bed and waited for slumber as his heart rate slowed once again.

I have clean clothes and the blood is gone. A stranger who I'm hitching a ride from is trying to make polite conversation, but I can't concentrate on whatever he's saying. The only thing that registers is, after a few hours of driving, he has to let me out. I tell him I understand and thank him gratefully for the ride before I walk in the first direction my feet lead.

I walk a mile and a half before I reach a town. It seems large and I begin watching for police cruisers and for a place to rest. I'm exhausted and I feel like I'm going to crash after each step I take.

Finally, my cloudy eyes see a large house. More importantly, I see a tree house. Crossing the yard cautiously, I stumble up the wood ladder to the unfamiliar tree house and settle into t eh far corner. I fall asleep almost instantly.

Kaoru reached sleepily at his alarm clock to cease the irritating buzzing before turning onto his back to stare at the ceiling. He couldn't figure out what was wrong with him. He'd never had two identical dreams like that, especially not sequential. It felt too strange to be normal.

He climbed out of bed and scratched his left arm with a yawn. Crossing the room, he opened the window shade to let in the morning sun and look across the yard. The "unfamiliar tree house" from his dream sat in his sight, tickling his curiosity. He hadn't been in there in years. Why would he go there in his dream?

He turned and headed for his bathroom, ridding himself of his boxers to take a shower.