The House on the Hill

When I was younger, I used to dream about a small house on a hill. It was a tiny house but it was mine. I used to dream about it after a bad day or I daydream about it. It was my safest place and I would feel better.

As I grew older, the house grew and the things around the house were the things I’ve always wanted or already have. A comfy couch, 2 cats that slept by the ever burning fire, a small corner nook for reading inside another room which I turned into a mini library – I can go on and you know it sounds perfect. If you had to make your own home, wouldn’t it be the way that you wanted it to be? Sometimes, I think it’s my alternate reality that if I slept in the first world, I would be awake at my house in the second world, does that make sense? But there are times that I wouldn’t dream about it but that’s okay with me. My house is on a hill. The trees mostly hide its location and you have to look very carefully to actually find the outline of the house. Sometimes I drop into the dream below the hill and I make my way up as I pass the singing birds and I feel the faint breeze on my skin.

One night, I dreamt I was in another room. The light around me looked grey and timid. I was in a kindergarten classroom and the books were scattered all over the floor. I didn’t know where I was and when I tried to leave, the door wouldn’t open which confused me. I went towards the windows, trying to pinpoint where I was. I was on the ground floor, the ground was grassy and there were no gates surrounding the classroom. I looked up at the hills and I see my house, peeking through the trees and the lights flickering.

I wake up disturbed. I feel as if I was evicted from my own home. I felt the sheets to see if I am awake or not, this is what I normally do when I wake up. It become a habit. I don’t think about it for a few days because I had other things to worry about. But it was strange that I was somewhere else.

It came upon me one night. I start the dream looking down on the foamed covered floors with the book scattered around me. The colours are the same, grey and timid. I try the door again and it is still locked. I go towards the windows and check my house. It’s still there, lights flickering. I try to open the window but the handle went soft to touch. I tried the second window and the handle melted again as if it couldn’t handle the heat from my hand. I looked around the classroom and saw a sturdy chair with metallic legs right next to me. I lifted it over my head and without warning, the windows shattered. I felt chills running up and down my entire body and when I opened my eyes, I was outside and there was no sky. I was looking at nothing but thick fog. I get up and I could just make out the classroom. It seems so far away to walk back to and as I thought of this, it slowly disappeared as if I was looking at a mirage. I got up on my feet and didn’t know where to go. The fog was too thick and there were no roads to follow. I didn’t realize the grass around me grew taller which made my situation worse. I look up and around, hoping to see the light from my house and I see it faintly flickering and it gave me a sense of hope.

But I was not alone.

Someone is watching me. I wanted to say something but I could not hear my voice. I struggled to try and say something but it was like speaking under water. I could have sworn I saw something but I wake up. I was sweating like hell and was out of breath like I was running. My heart was pounding off my chest and I was glad to hear my voice. I felt my sheets and got out of bed.

For about a week or two, I tried to dream about my house, or just visualize it but I couldn’t. I tried to read old diary entries because I mentioned my house most of the time. The entries seemed like a stranger wrote it and it wasn’t me. I couldn’t focus and see it.

A few months later, I found myself at the bottom of the hill that leads to my house. I looked back and there was nothing but fog. I had a flashlight that flickered on and off and for some reason, it was getting dark. The road was long and there are paths that winded endlessly. I could hear my footsteps as I walked up but I couldn’t hear my breath coming from my mouth. I followed the light from my house like a lighthouse. As I reached the foot of the house, there was a gate.

I don’t remember having gates.

I rattled the gates as hard as I could and it didn’t budge. I noticed a shadow at one of the windows and at this point, I wondered if the house was not mine all along.

No, it was mine. It was my dream and all of that was mine.

I climbed the gates and it just kept getting taller as I almost reach the top. After a while, I looked down and I was too high up. I am afraid of heights and I felt my grip tighten. But the more I held onto the metal, the more my grip failed and I fell.

I wake up and felt my sheets. This is the real world. No falling from anywhere.

I didn’t expect to dream about the house that very night but I did. I found myself in front of the door and the gates were gone but the relentless fog surrounded the house. I opened the front door and I slammed it shut, locking it behind me. Everything seems in order I tell myself as I scan the interior of the house. I take the keys on my left and I see a pike on my right and I take it and hold it up, ready to beat the crap of the intruder. I check every door and lock it after. I lock the back door and was walking back down the hallway when I noticed a new door. It was not the same colour as the interior and it was completely out of place. I moved towards it slowly and peeked inside. It was a basement. I never had a basement. I shut the door as silently and slowly as I could. As I held it to close, I felt someone trying to open the door. We were both struggling to push and pull the door on each side. I looked around me on what I can use to keep the door shut. I didn’t have a key to this door and I can hear someone banging loudly on the other side. The pulling eventually stopped and I reluctantly put my ear on the door, hoping to hear if it had gone away. I put the pike under the door to secure it and pulled the biggest chair I can find to hold the door in place. As soon as I was done I noticed something running around outside the house. There was a person with their hair on their face, running on all fours. I was terrified it would find a way inside the house. I checked all the doors, and it kept banging on the doors and the windows. I reminded myself that the windows were thick, I remember dreaming of making it thick enough but all I can think about are the chances of it being different in the past few dreams that I had. The lights started to flicker inside the house. I gotta fight my way through this, I can’t keep having these nightmares. 

I knew it was coming back and made my way to the strange basement door. I can hear it crawling back up. I took the chair off the handle and kicked the door open. It hit the thing and I felt like I hit it too softly so I hit it harder until I can feel it stop moving. I don’t want to know what it is but I know it’s dead so I climbed back up the stairs. I almost got to the door when I felt something pull my leg and I fell back in the basement.

I wake up and I’m relieved I am back in bed. It’s just a nightmare. I get up to start my day but I feel like I am forgetting something.

Strange.

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