While In War

Chapter I

“Bad Dreams”

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“There are too many, we can’t hold for much longer!”

“Just a bit more...come on...”

“Princess! We have to get moving!”

“T-the...gotten throu...seal the doors...get Pr........una to Bas.....”

“They’re in the Hall!”

“Princess!”

“Get out of the way!”

“Twilight! No...!”

“Leave her, we have to go!”

“No.....!”

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Gasp!

Jeremy grabbed his chest. His heart was racing. Another bad dream... he thought. That made seven this week.

He glanced at the clock. It read 3:02 AM. “Great,” he said to himself, “another three hours of restless sleep.” He laid back down. Maybe if he shut his eyes, he could go back to sleepland. The warm bed enveloped him, the hand of sleep closing his eyes and taking over his body.

Beep...beep...beep...beep....be-

Jeremy sat up. His dreamless sleep of the three hours didn’t help him feel any more refreshed. In fact, he felt more tired than he did before. Nevertheless, he had things to do today.

Throwing back the covers and going to the bathroom, Jeremy followed the daily routine of the average middle-class human: brushing his teeth, showering, getting dressed, and eating breakfast.

The 21-year old got into his black, old, and rusty commutormobile. The paint was coming off, the handle stuck, and the tires hadn’t been replaced since what seemed like the stone age. He turned the keys and started up the old, worn out engine. He made a mental note to buy gas on his way home.

He worked at a local coffee shop, a part-time turned full-time job running the machines, making coffee, and using the cash register. He loved his job. He met so many interesting people who wanted specific coffees every morning. Susan, a bioengineer, was working on making a robot arm that has an extender to help the elderly and disabled reach things easier. Jack, a musician, worked on a composition he was writing for his best friend’s wedding. and Celeste, a general leader of sorts, ran anything that she could, let it be a business, hot dog stand, or a television station. She liked being in charge.

“Have a rough night?” Peter, his co-worker, asked.

“Yeah, more bad dreams,” Jeremy replied.

“Same one?”

“Every night.”

“You should see a doctor about that. Maybe something’s troubling you and you don’t even know it.”

Jeremy thought about that throughout the day. A doctor, huh... He really didn’t care for psychology. Things could be worked out through hard work and seat. At least, that’s what his dad always told him.

Finally leaving work at five in the afternoon, he headed home. A long day, no business, and an empty house to go to. But today seemed a little different somehow. Something was going on, he could feel it.

When Jeremy got home, there was a note on his front door, with only a time and a place written on it. He picked it up and read:

3:02 AM. 21/3/15

13 Anderson Street

He thought that strange. 3:02, that’s the same time he got up after those nightmare. The 21st? This Saturday? Who sent this? Why? And why that old abandoned storage house? None of it made any sense. It seemed important though, so he waited until that Saturday to show up.