Dreams

                My name is Elliot Michael and my story starts in the summer of 2017. I suppose that’s more or less when I’d first noticed it. I had been coming home from work and it must’ve been near the beginning of June. The days were long and the air stayed warm at all hours of the day. I would get home around 5:30 pm usually and that left me with several hours of daylight. I like to read outside, it’s one of my favorite things and summer’s long days allowed me a lot of time for that. I didn’t leave my house much, but that was my choice. I didn’t like bars and clubs or loud places, I liked to sit in my chair and get lost in a different world. Whether I was reading a new book or watching a movie, playing games with my friends online, or simply writing a short story for my own entertainment. My life basically consisted of going to work and coming home, and all the things between.

                It was a Friday night when I first remember it happening. I know it was a Friday because I had just gotten a new book off recommendation of a friend, I was looking forward to spending the weekend in my chair and hopefully finishing it. It was an online friend as most of mine were. It’s significantly easier to keep friends while not leaving the house if those friends are on the internet. Anyway, it was Friday and I was coming home from work. I’m going to tell it just as I remember it happening.

                The motion light above the garage door flicked on and I pushed the button on the opener. I pulled into my garage and shut the car off, grabbing all my things from the passenger seat. I suppose, it wasn’t really until I got to the kitchen that I noticed anything was different. I looked around the kitchen a bit confused. My key had worked in the door and it looked like my kitchen. The light grey, tiled back-splash had little cracks in all the same places. The dark green wallpaper wasn’t ugly but, it wasn’t pretty, either. The brass handles on the cupboards were faded and would spin freely without tightening or loosening. Everything was the same, but I don’t think it was my kitchen. The only thing I did notice is smell was gone. You know, that smell of your own house, or your own kitchen. I always notice how much I enjoy the smell of my own house as soon as I get home from work; it’s comforting. But, the smell wasn’t there today.

                I wandered through the rest of the rooms to see if I could notice anything different with them. I’d felt this anxious feeling, this almost dreadful feeling from the moment I entered the house. It wasn’t a feeling I’d ever felt before. It was like this suspense that was just hanging in the air, waiting for me to finally notice what was different and chase my mind as it ran through all the possible causes. As I went through the rooms one by one the feeling seemed to worsen with each room that I failed to find a cause. After checking the whole house and turning up nothing I decided maybe it was in my head and I needed to sleep it off.

                I awoke to my alarm blaring and thinking, “what the hell? My alarm isn’t set for Saturdays.” I grabbed my phone off the nightstand and it read 6:30 A.M. Friday, June 9^th. That dream was so real I was sure it was Saturday. A bit dazed I got up and went about my Friday as usual. I couldn’t help noticing how bright it still was outside on my way home from work. As I was getting home that evening the motion light above the garage door flicked on and I pushed the button on the opener. I pulled into my garage and shut the car off, grabbing all my things from the passenger seat. That’s when I noticed it. The door to my house was cracked open and some lights were on inside. A little panicked, I grabbed the hammer off the bench in the garage before slowly creeping into the cracked open door.

                I was always a bit compulsive about locking doors and turning off lights and I was immediately afraid because I knew I had shut them off and locked the door. I walked into my kitchen and saw my cupboards and drawers thrown out all over the floor, broken glass and dishes were littered everywhere. That’s when the feelings hit me, I felt this crazy, scared, suspenseful feeling and it felt so strange but, so familiar. I pulled out my phone and called 911 to tell the dispatch about what had happened, at least get it on file. I had planned on checking the rest of the house, but the dispatch insist I waited in my car until the officer showed up.

                The officer was friendly enough, he checked the whole house when he got there and then checked it again with me in case he’d missed a room or closet. We didn’t find anyone in the house but we did find a few things missing. Some old books and records I’d had on a shelf in my living room amongst other things. The officer told me they would do what they can but, I shouldn’t hold my breath. These kinds of cases are hard to solve, he said. I was just thankful not to be alone but, he left soon after. I had a difficult time sleeping that night but, eventually I fell asleep and had no dreams.

                I woke up the next morning with no alarm, relieved that it was, indeed, Saturday now and that the stress from the night before felt mostly behind me. As I started cleaning up the kitchen I realized how long dealing with this break in would actually take. Regrettably, the new book I had would have to wait.