Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction Group 3 - 2017 | Page 347

Dreams of Darkness
Singapore International School, Hui , Adrian Ming Hei – 13
T
here was a presence lurking behind me. Something ominous. Something sinister. It drew nearer, wrapping its snaky, wispy
tendrils around me. Shrouded in darkness, the malevolent presence tightened its grip on me. It sucked away all sense of
optimism and positivity. A tidal wave of despair crashed into me, and I felt horrible, wretched. I desperately tried to take
back control of myself as I felt more and more desolate, but it was too much and there was an awful moment of total,
complete dread. And then it stopped, and I knew. It wasn’t real.
I was going through lucid dreaming - when you’re mentally aware that you’re in a dream. Where there’s an entire realm
for you to explore, to discover, to manipulate. Reality is defined by your own brain, endless possibilities restricted only by your
imagination. No two lucid dreams are ever the same, and each one is a new adventure. Ever since I experienced my first lucid
dream, I’d been fascinated and obsessed with how to control and harness them.
I willed the darkness to dissipate. It fought back, tenaciously clinging on to the outskirts of my semi-conciousness. This
was strange – I could usually control all the aspects of my dream. I felt the dream starting to become unstable and tried to calm
down to stop the adrenaline rush from waking me up. Once again, I used my mind to firmly push back the darkness, and this
time, it instantly obeyed, dissolving into nothingness and disappearing past my peripheral vision. I dismissed its initial resistance
as nothing, maybe I wasn’t fully immersed yet. Only later would I realize the horrifying signifance of it.
I took in my surroundings. Unremarkable stone houses faced me in all directions, packed relatively close to each other.
There were a few better-off bungalows here or there, sometimes enclosing a small skywell within, most roofed with bright red
ceramic tiles. Multistory buildings were few and far between - these were quite extravagant, with exquisite patterns carved on
their façades, their eaves extending far outwards, some connected by verandas and walkways bordering a quaint courtyard.
Beyond all of that, a colossal wall, stretching as far as the eye could see, a magnificent sight to comprehend. Along it were
watchtowers, their soaring spires adorned with elaborate flags. It was a city, a…an old city. But where were its people? The city
was completely empty, save for the gentle rustling of leaves brought about by a light breeze.
I closed my eyes and imagined people. I visualized children playing in the narrow alleyways, street hawkers bartering their
goods, young couples twirling parasols, sauntering along the streets. I could almost hear the hustle and bustle. That’s more like it.
I opened my eyes.
Not a single living soul in sight.
I tried again.
Still, no one.