real | day thirteen

It’s not real.

It’s not real, it’s not real, it’s not real, she told herself, over and over. It’s a dream. It’s not real.

But it felt real. This not-real, this dream she’d been having for a month now. Every night. She’d tried everything – chamomile, white noise, sleeping pills, anything and everything she could think of to sleep soundly, restfully, without this dream.

It’s not real.

It was the same, every night, but it grew longer. It had started simply enough – she was walking in a field, one just a few miles from her house. She was in a white dress, and the sun was out. It was fine. That was all, the first night.

The next night, she was in that field again. White dress, sunshine. But then it was dark, and when she looked down there was an X splayed across the front of her dress. Dark red and dripping. When she lifted her hands from her stomach, they were dripping too.

It’s not real. It’s not real. It’s not real.

And the next night, the dogs. Or wolves – she couldn’t tell – they seemed too big to be dogs. Running, chasing, snarling, biting. One caught the hem of her dress and it tore, shreds of fabric tangling around her legs as she ran. It’s not real.

Then the men, and the hands grabbing her arms and not letting go. A bag over her head, everything dark, a car, moving. Not real.

And then she was walking, stumbling across a hard floor, the hands still on her arms, tight grip. Snatches of conversation, low voices, but she heard words. test and subject and experiment.

it’s not real it’s not real it’s not real

Hoisted and dumped onto a table. Cold metal against her bare legs. Legs strapped down, wrists tied. She couldn’t move her arms. Someone yanked the bag off her head and all she saw was a surgical mask and a needle, coming closer.


That’s when she screamed, and everything disappeared.

She woke with a start, and then took a deep dream. It’s just a dream. It’s not real.

Then she realized she couldn’t move her arms.


my 31 days series is explained here. I’ve really been enjoying doing fiction on these lately, although it’s definitely not what I intended when I started. I have some writer friends that excel at creepy and slightly terrifying fiction and let’s just say I was tempted to try my hand. Let me know what you think. Thanks to Kelly Mahalak for today’s word, and if you want to give me a one-word prompt, tweet it @hannahboning.


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