Hide and Seek

I open my hazel eyes to a dark, musky room. I can hardly see the tip of my nose through the thick, swirling black smoke that smells of iron bars and sweaty, worn out leather boots. The odor danced up from below me, fore I could not see the floor and I assumed there was none, and settled in my nose, tainting the fresh wind I had had in my lungs seconds ago with the repugnant gaseous smell of my father’s old shed. The thought had already occurred to me that I might be in the shed I know so well, that favored, cramped spot of my younger self during those fond years of hide and seek, but there was certainly not enough room in the shack to hold me still, bound in this awkward position by the white-hot wire that dug into my wrists. My heart started thundering and sweat poured down my face. Am I going to die here in this labyrinth of nuclear waste? I can hardly breathe! Tears cascade down my face and are lost in the heat. My throat is closing! Someone help me!

I sit up quickly as a scream rips itself free from my throat. “Haha, I found her! The idiot screamed!” My brother ran up to me and tagged my shoulder as I stretched my aching limbs. “She fell asleep in the shed!” He yelled to our friends who erupted in laughter.

It was only a dream?