Far off in the distance the high-pitched squeal continued to get on his nerves in what seemed like a perfectly timed rhythm that was designed to break his concentration. Riding through the dusty and rocky road, bike wide open, he cringes at the sound, putting his hands to his ears. "What is that terrible noise"? He thinks to himself, as his bike stalls and he falls to the ground.
Skin scraped, blood rushing and no help to be found. "Suck it up", he says out loud, while picking his bike off the ground.
Once again, he races through the dirt. The scenery is everything he imagined it would be; early evening while the sun is still shining, yet the breeze has cooled and the perfect mixture of red and orange spread out across the sky as if a painter took his paint brush and brushed it against the sky.
There is nothing sweeter than a motorcycle ride with the wind across his face and his buddies by his side. But today is different. There are no buddies and even though everything looks right, something is off, making him uneasy with the scenery. As perfect as he hoped it would be, something about today was eerie. You know, the kind of thing that looks normal, but you can't explain the queasiness you feel inside.
"Shake it off", he tells himself keep moving and enjoy the ride. "
beep, beep, beep" His heart beats faster as this time, the high-pitched squeal is closer, louder, stronger. The heat from the sun dries the blood on his elbow, the dirt fills the open cut in his skin, and it starts to burn. "It doesn't matter; keep riding, away from the squeal". "Get a grip, Dream, it's not like you have never ridden alone before." He says to himself aloud, very loud this time.
The eerie feelings get stronger as he tries to ride farther away from the squeal, which he has now realized has a definite pattern. At last, he spots other riders in the distance. Just as he begins to add pressure to the throttle, his bike stalls for the second time, slowing his pace and bringing him to a stop a few feet away from the... guys?
"Hey, gu---".
Before he can finish his sentence, Dream hears the well-timed squeal. Sweat is pouring down his face as he notices something very strange about his buddies. This time, the squeal acts as a magnet, he can no longer out run it.
Instead, it pulls him back, calling his name, not stopping until it has his full attention. Fear fills his heart and acid his throat as he holds his breath fighting to get away. The high-pitched squeal screams his name, "DREAM! DREAM! DREAM!" Surrendering to the voice, he gaspes for air and suddenly everything makes sense. "Son, wake up, you are having a bad dream, you must have been pressing the snooze button in your sleep." "Get up, you are late for school". His mother was annoyed with him because this was becoming a pattern.
"Okay mom, I'm awake!"
His heart is still racing, but it begins to settle as he stands in the hot shower, laughing over the strange dream he just had. "Ouch", he yells, as he runs the washcloth across the back of his elbows. To his surprise, the washcloth is covered with old, crusty dry blood.
Weird.
When he gets to school, his friends are in the parking lot -- looking very surprised to see him. He can't help but think they look a little different than they did yesterday; older maybe?
"Hey Dream! Where did you disappear to?" "You were right in front of us, we heard this loud noise, and dude, you were gone!" "Everyone was looking for you, but we couldn't find you!" "We figured you got kidnapped by aliens or something." He blows them off as just messing with his head, the way guys do.
As the parking lot begins to fill with other students, he notices them looking and whispering. Only then does he notice the date on the school reader board:
"Tuesday, May 26, 2010" He laughs at the mistake. "That should be May 26 th 2009, smart one."
The End
** This story is the first attempt at fiction and is the joint effort of Justin and Teresa Ortiz. Mostly Justin as it is his last assignment for his Science Fiction Class**
