Rob

“Rob wake up, you’ve to be at college in twenty minutes,” called Rob’s mother.

She knew what teenage boys were like. He was the last of three sons she still had at home. She loved him as mothers do and knew he would make a fine hard-working member of society, once he was a little older. Currently it was fair to say he was a bit of a slob. This daily toil to get him out of bed and on the way to college was hard work for his mother.

“OK Mum stop shouting I have plenty of time will you do me some breakfast I’ll be down in couple of minutes,” said Rob.

Rob was seventeen and a slightly built young man. A little geeky looking, as some unkind folk had told him. His mother tried to reassure him, he knew though that he was different. The problem he was having as he grew into adulthood, was establishing whether it was a good different or bad different.

His inability to get out of bed on a morning wasn’t completely due to teenage laziness. He was exhausted from spending many hours each night dreaming. Not the type of dreams you might have and then vaguely remember the next day. Since early childhood Rob had vivid dreams most nights. To him they felt as if they lasted most of the night. By dawn he was tired out and ready for some sleep.

Rob had told his family about the dreams. He didn’t always get the sympathy that he was looking for. His brothers told him that maybe should go to bed earlier and stop eating pizza so late in the evening.

This morning was a good example of the trouble he was having. He had spent what seemed to him most of the previous night dreaming about plane crashes. He had been on the plane sitting near the back. He wasn’t sure where they were flying from or to. He knew they were over a dark and stormy ocean, maybe the Atlantic. It was like a lot of his dreams, vague yet vivid at the same time.

Half way through the journey the plane had hit turbulence. Terrible turbulence, the worst anyone on the plane had ever experienced. Rob had seized upon the opportunity and started videoing it on his phone. This would be great on you tube later he thought. People were screaming, luggage was falling from the overhead lockers, an air hostess was injured when she fell over. Another one hurt when an out of control trolley hit her. This was wild, Rob was having a blast and it was only a dream so he could enjoy himself. He often dreamed about bad things happening. At first he didn’t feel bad about enjoying the pain and suffering in his dreams. After all they were only dreams.

Recently though Rob had begun to worry if he was alright in his mind. Some terrible things were happening at night. Unspeakable things, violence, sexual, dreams that were quite horrific. He dreamed of murders where he was the murderer, train crashes where he was the driver, arson where he had lit the fire.

The situation was causing Rob real consternation. He worried whether his dreams were normal and somehow should he try and stop them. On the other hand he got real pleasure from the things that happened, the things that he did. It was impossible, he couldn’t tell anyone about what was happening. He decided he wouldn’t tell anyone about his dreams ever again.

“Rob come on your late for college. I’m having to go to work I’ve left your breakfast on the table. I’ll see you tonight when I get home,” with that his mother left the house.

Rob closed his eyes and tried to remember his dream. Sometimes it was easy, sometimes more difficult. The flight came back to him; the plane was lurching left then right. It was falling and rising like a ship at sea in a violent storm. The plane’s engines were racing then straining as the plane was flung around in the turbulence. All the time Rob was filming events on the plane right up to the moment it smashed into the ocean. The plane broke in two on impact and began to sink immediately. People by now had stopped screaming; they were underwater most still strapped in their seats.

Rob watched as the front section of the plane tumbled into the dark depths of the ocean. The rear section where he was seated seemed to glide ever downwards. Landing gently on the flat seabed. All the time in his dream Rob was recording events on his phone right until the point where he was sat in seat on the ocean floor surrounded by dead people still strapped into their seats.

Rob opened his eyes and wandered downstairs to have his tea and the toast. Rob was exhausted, his dream the previous night had been as clear as if he had been there. He knew he couldn’t go to college and would have to phone in sick.

Rob went into the lounge and crashed on the sofa. He switched the TV on. The breaking news on every channel was of a plane missing in mid Atlantic flying from the South America to Africa. A massive search was being carried out but it was feared the plane had crashed and all three hundred and forty-three people on-board had died. Rob shivered, it was impossible of course it was. He’d had a bad dream in the night, nothing else.

The young man began trembling as he reached inside his dressing gown pocket for his phone. He scrolled to the video album. He opened the last video to be recorded. Rob then sat and watched in horror a recording from the night before. A plane falling from 40000 feet. Crashing and then sinking to the bottom of the ocean floor. He maybe wouldn’t be putting it on you tube. For now he would just after keep it on his phone with all the others.

2 comments

    1. Thank you. I’ve had a little break from writing short stories and am just beginning once again. Coming up with interesting endings is one of the challenges.

      Like

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