My Dream Is Always the Same

The dream is always the same. I have a view of a cracked ceiling, and there is a burning, tugging sensation on my wrists and ankles. I shift my head to the left and my head pounds so hard I almost lose consciousness. There is a dirty mirror on the wall and I strain my eyes to make out my reflection. I see a dirty child tied to a bed that has seen better days. Panicking, I tear my eyes away from the horrifying image and try to make sense of the situation, but it is so hard to concentrate with the thumping in my skull. Suddenly, with a flash of gold, something is pulled over my eyes and everything goes dark. My body thrashes in the bed but two strong hands are holding me down…

My eyes open and I take in the familiar surroundings of my bedroom. A thin sheen of sweat coats my body as the aftermath of the dream still lingers and the golden California sunlight pours through my window. I glance at the clock on my bedside table, I was late. Again. Groaning, I flipped off the covers and stumbled into my bathroom. No time to shower, I quickly ran my fingers through my thick, brown hair in a valiant attempt to tame the beast. I put on my clothes, scooped up my backpack from the ground, and headed down the stairs. Both my parents were in the kitchen. My mom was taking some homemade chocolate chip pancakes out of the oven while my dad was at the table, blowing on his coffee and absentmindedly skimming through today’s paper. I scurried through the kitchen and grabbed a cookie from the counter. I gave my mom a quick peck on the cheek and headed out the door.
“Don’t forget to go to the library after school today Damien!” my father reminds me. I glanced back, shot him my winning smile, and promised him I would.

As I was in my last year ...

... middle of paper ...

...it the room, revealing the boxes and discarded items that littered the small area. I started rummaging through the boxes finding holiday decorations, old china plates, and even a set of dusty records, complete with a record player, but nothing that I was looking for. Annoyed, I set the heavy record player on the floor, resulting in a hollow thump. That was strange, the sound echoed as if there was space under the floorboards…One of the boards were loose and using an old candle stick as a makeshift crowbar, I pried the board loose. To my surprise, there was a space underneath the floor! I yanked up the other old boards and was shocked at my discovery. Sitting in the cubby was a medium sized brown box. It was coated with a thin layer of dust as if it hadn’t been touched for a long time. I carefully peeled off the tape, opened the box, and was stunned at what I found.