The Dreamer

It was a shock when I woke up to the Car sitting in our driveway. I heard my mom’s surprised yell before she rushed outside to get her hands on it.

I hurried along after her, gasping when I really saw the thing. The sun beamed off its baby blue exterior like it was as fascinated by it as we were. I watched my mom’s gleeful face as she called back into the house, my own face caught in awe.

My pop stood in the front doorway, confusion etched on his face with a deep crease in his brow. He managed to make every emotion look angry, somehow.

"Oh, David... How did you know?” Mom asked.

“This ain't me. Where'd this thing come from, Dolly?" He muttered as his head flashed in the morning light. Now mom was the one who looked confused.

"But... I dreamt that..." She paused and her gaze fell to the glimmering silver mirror. "That you bought me this car. This exact car, David."

"I didn't buy nothin'."

“But…” Mom looked different now, her face blank and unreadable expect for a tiny furrow in her brows. I put my hand on her arm. She looked at me and a grin split across her cheeks, a big genuine grin that I couldn’t help mirroring. She didn’t grin like this often, and I liked it.

It really did start off seeming harmless. Pop wondered about the car but Mom insisted that she didn’t know where it came from, so it eventually was left at that. Then one morning I woke up to find her wearing a brand new beautiful dress, a deep black v-cut neckline with a poofy white chiffon skirt. It looked just like the Grace Kelly wore in that movie my mom watched sometimes when Pop locked the bedroom door and she was stuck on the couch.

“I woke up in it!” She exclaimed happily. “Isn’t it lovely?”

“Yeah,” I replied. “Just like the movie.” She laughed as I touched the coarse fabric.

A few days later I came home from school to find my mom and my dad snuggled together in the living room, which I thought was a stranger sight than the car appearing out of thin air. I didn’t notice at first, I was too busy avoiding looking at my parents’ affection, but it suddenly dawned on me that there was a large tuft of dark brown hair growing out of what had previously been pop’s bald spot.

“Like the hair, Jimmy?” He asked as he pointed to his head, his beady eyes locked at me as one of his hands grabbed mom’s breast. I rolled my eyes.

“Isn’t he dreamy?” She said without looking at me. I saw her clutch weakly at the hand on her chest before giving up. I averted my eyes, marching to my room, and slammed my door shut with maybe more force than was necessary.

My parents didn’t talk about it to me. I only heard the muffled conversations from behind closed doors. Like some kind of wild animal, it was dangerous to get close. But I considered myself something of an explorer, so one day I decided to brave the beast and put my ear against their bedroom door as softly as I could manage.

“Whad’ya mean you can’t control it?” Pop drawled angrily. “That sounds like horseshit. You lyin’ to me Dolly? You better not be lyin’ to me.”

“I’m sorry David, I-I don’t know what to tell you. Its just… I dream about it, and then it happens.” I heard my mom plead, tears sounding in her voice.

“You little…” Came Pop’s irritated voice before Mom sobbed. I ran upstairs and closed my door.

A loud sound from downstairs woke me up. My eyes shot open, but my body stayed perfectly still in bed as I listened. Another sound, and I knew they had been gunshots. My stomach turned white as I bolted out of bed and ran down the stairs to my parents’ bedroom once again. I shoved the door open and peered in to see Pop facing the corner of the room, the shotgun in his hand lowered and his breathing heavy. Mom trembled behind him in the bed, plastered against the wall. I walked inside.

“Jim, get the hell away from it.” Pop barked at me as I looked to the corner. A huge nightmarish figure made of some kind of black sludge lay shot against the wall. It sat dead and still, it’s body splattered across the floor from the gunshot, but it’s beady white eyes were stuck open.

“Wa… Was it a nightmare?” I asked slowly, looking over my shoulder towards Mom. She put her hand over her mouth and sobbed. I turned back to the figure and suddenly recognized those horrible eyes.

“What the hell, Dolly?” Pop turned back to my mom. “You get some kinda crazy dream power and you decide to try to kill us?” He paused.

“Go back to your room, Jim.”

“But-” I began to protest angrily.

“Go. Now.”

My hands balled into fists as I stomped out and Pop shut the door behind me. I hear a muffled slap as I walked up the stairs. I punched the wall and continued to my room.

It was three days later that I walked downstairs in the morning to find Mom sitting on the couch, staring at the blank television.

“Mom?” I asked as gently as possible. She didn’t respond, so I padded over to sit down beside her.

We sat in silence for a moment, and I tried to see if there was something one the TV that my mom was looking at, but all I saw was our reflection in the black glass.

“He’s gone.” She said without looking at me. It was my turn not to respond, instead turning my head to look at her for a moment.

“You wanna go to a drive-in?”

“I’d like that.”