Stephanie Chisam, 3/2/09 2:37 AM

The world is fuzzy. Everything is shrouded in this thick grey haze. I shouldn’t be here. I’m not really. I’m watching, like in a movie, one I can feel and smell. I’m watching a young man, one I know. His name is Johnny Wagner, he’s my... boyfriend of sorts but we’ve never truly met. He is scared, panicking; I can feel his fear.

He grabs an arm full of clothes from a dresser and stuffs them into a large blue duffel bag. He is talking into a cell phone, but I can’t quite make out the words, just agitated squawks. It sounds almost like one of the adults from a peanuts cartoon; it would be funny if it weren’t for the feeling of dread that hangs thick in the air. I try and reach for him, to run my fingers through his thick brown hair, let him know it’s ok, but I can’t. That’s not my role in this. I’m here merely to observe.

He stuffs more items into the bag and kneels down struggling to close it with one hand as his agitated yelling into the phone becomes more frantic.

Suddenly a loud bang draws both our attention to the front door. Johnny stands surprised, dropping the phone to the floor. He says something as another loud bang resounds, the front door splinters and in steps a shadowy man. His features are rough and angular, I can’t make out much of who he is or what he looks like, but I know he is holding a rifle of some kind.

There is an audible thump as the darts fly towards Johnny. Two darts stick in him and he looks down at his chest and then shouts. He holds up his hand and something happens to the man who shot him. The black figure flies suddenly back and slams against the apartment wall. Johnny seems to look down at his hands almost surprised at what just happened then back up towards the dark man as he slumps down to the floor, his head lulling to the side. Two more black figures step through the doorframe. They each fire two more darts, which thump into Johnny’s chest. If I could scream I would. He stumbles noticeably on his feet, I can feel the drugs washing through his system as if it were my own.

Another crash, this one from the wall behind him. He and I both turn to see something new crash through the wall. It’s feral and dark, blacker than the figures and a lot bigger. The creature steps forward and lets forth a primal scream through a bird like beak. My terror peaks, Johnny succumbs to the drugs and crumbles at the feet of this monster…

I shoot strait up in my bed, sweat clinging my nightshirt to my chest as I breath heavily. A dream. My heart races, that looming sense of dread still with me as I shake off the vision. That creature. Johnny… I suddenly feel the need to call him. I check the clock. 2:45 Am. He will forgive me for waking him. I reach for my cell phone on the nightstand beside my bed…