Dreamer

When I was younger, I used to have dreams of creatures that I cannot explain. They were horrible, ugly beasts that would attack everyone I loved. In these dreams all I could do was stand and watch. I had no power over these creatures, and as they tore apart everyone around me they never touched me. I wasn’t afraid of them- in fact, I felt sorry for them. They acted as though they were starving, and hadn’t eaten for days, maybe even weeks. They needed to feed off of humans to survive. They were brutally hunted and everyone feared and despised them; everyone but me. When I would wake up from these dreams, I used to walk down the hall to my parent’s room and check to make sure they were still there. I never told them about my dreams in fear that they may think I was a little mad. It’s always been my secret and it’s always been rather insignificant, until now.

Last week Henry Price, the son of a wealthy family friend, proposed to me. Being already 19 years old, I knew it was in my best interest to say yes. Henry is the only man that I’ve ever loved, however I feel as though I shouldn’t be marrying him. The night after he proposed, I had one of the horrible dreams that plagued me as a child. I’d not had one in almost 10 years, and now I can’t sleep without seeing the faces of these bloodthirsty beasts again. Sometimes now they take the form of humans. It’s a gruesome sight to see people attacking and sucking the life out of others. I don’t want to sleep anymore.

Today I’m on my way to the market to pick out some flowers. I need to set the table for when Henry’s parents come to have dinner with my family, and I know they just adore roses. I love the market, and I take an especially long time to reach the florist. The beautiful dresses in the window of the clothing shop catch my eye, and I slow down to take a peak. I get so engulfed in the intricate designs that the world around me disappears and I can no longer hear the horses and carriages on the street or the chatter of the passing couples. Suddenly, I feel a hand upon my shoulder. I spin around quickly and see a man that I don’t know. I should be afraid, but there’s something familiar about his face. We stare at each other for what seems like forever before he finally opens his mouth to speak.

“Excuse me madam, but I was wondering if you could help me with something.” He smiles and I can’t help but to smile back.

“Of course sir, but I cannot help for long. I’ve got to pick up some roses from the florist you see. What is it that you need?”

“Would you be able to show me to the furniture store? I wanted to buy something for my new home.” He looks down at his other hand and for the first time, I break eye contact with him and notice that he’s carrying a bouquet of red roses. “You may take these roses for your trouble, as long as you help me pick out a nice new sofa.”

Before I can answer him, he hands me the bouquet. I thank him and begin walking in the direction of the furniture store and he follows, without ever looking anywhere but straight ahead. We walk like this for a few minutes before he turns to me and introduces himself.
“How rude of me madam, I haven’t even told you my name. I’m Charles Thompson.”

The name sounds like something I’ve heard before, but I don’t tell him that. “You can just call me Elsie,” I say without braking eye contact. The icy blue of his eyes looks almost unnatural.

Smiling, he kneels down and kisses my hand. “What a lovely name,” he says and stands up.

We continue walking and don’t speak again until we reach the furniture store. I start walking inside, but he grabs my arm and pulls me away. “Thank you so much for walking me this far. I know I asked you to help me pick furniture, but you better get those roses home and into a vase of water before they wilt. It was a pleasure meeting you Ms. Chapman.” Before I can reply, he disappears into the store and I’m left standing on the street. Strangely enough, I don’t recall telling him my last name.

When I finally arrive home, my mother is furiously setting the table with all of the expensive dishes. I can smell something delicious being prepared in the kitchen, but Mother tells me not to bother the cooks. Instead, I put the roses into a crystal vase and go upstairs to change. I have a lovely green dress that brings out my eyes, and I go to the mirror to fix my hair. I make my hair look presentable and go downstairs only to discover that Henry and his parents have already arrived. We sit down to dinner and as we eat the lovely meal that has been cooked for us, my thoughts begin to wander. The clanking of the spoons and forks gets quieter until I can no longer hear it. My mind returns to earlier today when I met Charles on the street. Something about he way he looked and spoke seems all too familiar to me. I can’t get the image of him out of my head and I rack my brain trying to figure out where I could have met him before. It is impossible for me to know this man though. I must be going mad.

After supper ends, the Price family stays for a few hours to talk about useless and trivial things. I’m excited when they finally leave and I rush upstairs to bed. I’ve been very tired lately and I hope that tonight I won’t have one of those horrible dreams.

I begin to fall asleep, and just as quickly as my eyes shut, I’m woken up by the sounds of my parents talking in the hallway. I always shut and lock my window at night, but as I open my eyes I see that it is open and the sun is pouring into my room. As I am about to get up and close the curtains, my mother opens the door and comes in. She looks very upset and sits down on the edge of my bed.

“Darling, I’m afraid I have some bad news for you.” She folds her hands in her lap and continues, “Henry is ill. His mother came over earlier this morning to talk to me, and she is very concerned. You and I are going to visit him in an hour and I expect you to be ready and well dressed by then.”

Before I can ask her any questions, she leaves my room. I know that Henry’s mother would not have come to deliver the news if things weren’t serious, so as I put on my dark green dress, I try to prepare myself for the worst. What could have come over him in just one night?

After breakfast, Mother rushes me outside into the carriage. The horses seem to be going just a little faster than usual and my mother is wringing her hands. My heart starts to beat harder and my palms are getting sweaty. My mother never gets concerned and her anxiety seems contagious. This feels like the longest trip of my life.

When we finally pull up in front of the Price house, I have butterflies in my stomach. We barely knock at the door before Mr. Price opens it and rushes us inside. He says a quick hello and leads us upstairs. I can hear male voices discussing something at the end of the hallway and as we approach them, they grow silent. Their eyes follow us into Henry's room until I close the door. Once my eyes adjust to the darkness of Henry's room, I feel my heart drop into my stomach and a lump form in my throat. My mother gasps and takes a step back. I cannot pull my eyes away from the awful sight of my fiancé, even as they well with tears. How could this have happened to him?

No one moves or makes a sound for what seems like eternity, until the sound of someone clearing his throat cuts the silence. A man emerges from the dark corner of the room, with a pipe in his hand.

"Goodmorning. Please allow me to introduce myself." The man attempted to smile as he spoke, but it seemed very forced. He looked down before continuing, "My name is Dr. Scott. I was called here to assess the condition of Mr. Price, which as you may have guessed, is rather grave."

I feel nauseous at this point. Dr. Scott speaks with no emotion, and has no compassion on his face. He begins to speak again, but his words melt together until I can no longer hear them. The room is spinning and I take one last look at Henry before everything goes black.