My Bad-Dream!

The pitter-patter of rain drops on the roof kept me awake. The constant buzz from cars outside didn’t help either. But eventually, I managed to doze off. It was 5:00 when I woke up again. But this time, there was something not right about my bed. It seemed heavier. I then felt it move. I shot up like a bullet, only to find my cat settling at the end of the bed. I fell back on my pillow, under rested, and drifted off to sleep.

In the morning, the rain had come to a halt. Strangely, there was no sign of rain ever being there at all. The sky was clear, and the leaves were…green. I then realized that this wasn’t my home. In fact, this didn’t even look like my room. Instead of the green paint, there was purple wall paper with roses. My head numb, I made my self to my sisters’ room. I found a bunch of gang men, dressed in baggy pants, and white t-shirts, and hats turned backwards. Where was I? It hadn’t even occurred to me that my sister was standing next to me. She then hollered for my mom.

“Who are you?” My mom said, clutching a bat.

Stepping back, I ran into the living room. Everything was the same, except for the fireplace where the TV used to be. My dad sat at the table, his eyes glued to the newspaper. My dad asked who I was. My head fluttering with thoughts, hit the wall, and I blacked out. Once I woke up, I was in my sister’s bed, adjacent to the gangsters’. Fortunately for me, they were all asleep.

My eyes kept wandering about the room. They then flew to a pile of tablet phones, all just about to fall off the side-table. I seized the opportunity. I reached for the phones, trying to grasp at least one. A beefy hand stopped me.

“What do you think you’re doin’?” The leader of the pack questioned me, half awake.

“Nothing, sir,” I said, “Just trying to figure out where I am.”

Dazed from all that happened, I went into what looked like my room, and put on some loose-fitting clothes. They would have to do. After doing so, I bumped into my dad, on the way out into the hallway.

“So, you really don’t remember me?” I asked him.

“Yeah,” He said, “I don’t remember having a nine-year-old.”

Suddenly, I realized I was shorter than usual, and my hair was more blonde. Oh my god. I realized that, if I was indeed nine, then…

“… It’s 2007?” I asked my dad.

He nodded, probably thinking I was a loon. Pushing him aside, I ran into the living room, and bolted out the door onto the deck. The air was warm, and had a sense of hospitality. But I still didn’t feel comfortable.
Why didn’t my own parents recognize me? Where was my other sister and what were those men doing in my house? I was about to come back in, when my neighbor, Grace, greeted me.

“Um, do you know what’s going on?” I asked her.

“Not really. What do you mean, Polly?” Grace said.

Did she just recognize me? I think she did! Oh, finally! Someone who knew who I was! I ran back in to look at the time. All I could find was a calendar. Nearly fainting, I looked at the day : April fool’s day.