Post by drake on Oct 29, 2010 10:37:22 GMT -5
Then:
In Noah's dream...
It was the same dream. The same dream I had last night, and the night before. The thing was crawling in the hall again. It would stop it's thick thumping and wet smooshing as it waited, then would continue down the hall toward the room I shared with my little dog, Pete. I was young, probably around five, this was before I knew I would be accepted into Hogwart's. In fact, I was so young that I did not even know what magic was; although, I was in a family filled with wizards. That is besides the point, this is more about the thing in the hall. More importantly, this is about the image that drove the thing away. I was never afraid of boogie men, or stories about dementors, or anything that a normal child would fear. I knew there had to be a logical way around such things, even ways to prove that these apparitions did not completely exist. This is why the dream was so scary to me. In the dream, even more frightening that the thing in the hall, my ability to clearly think was missing. My logical side of the brain would go right on sleeping as the wet thing crept into my room.
Pete was no help, he laid cringing at the bottom of the bed, and at first chance he whimpered out of the room into the dark hall. He made no reappearance in my dream. But the tentacles that moved through the dark like slithering slugs were there, in plain view. My young eyes would hold their place on the round suction cup appendage that moved on the floor toward my little bed. Denim blue eyes, wide with terror, as the octopus looking creature moved it's body through the doorway. Air held in my throat as my scream was silent. Then I saw the head, and if I had been anyone else I might have passed out then and there. Only, you can not really pass out when you are already asleep. My tongue clicked, but otherwise no noise came through my frozen lips.
The red puffy hair glistened in the dark of my room. The night light plugged firmly into the wall showed the grease paint. A sneer was painted onto the octopus creature's twisted face. The blue paint around it's black eyes were smeared, dripping down like black tears that looked like ooze in the already black shadows of the room. Slurp, thump, slurp, thump. I will never forget that sound for as long as I live. It was the sound the- the... THING... made as it moved toward my bed in a hollow slumping lurking. I can not find the words to describe it now, both the thing that was coming after me, nor my fear and lack of logical thought. I was frozen in bed, unable to make a sound beyond the clicking of my tongue in my dry mouth. My eyes had to be like saucers as it came closer. One gray-green tentacle moved out of the shadow, and circled my ankle. A small tug pulled me to the end of the bed, and my eyes rolled closed.
The flash of light that comes next has to go unexplained. As I told you, my logical mind was gone at this time. Nothing made sense, and this very vivid dream was one of the most horrible experience I never had. Yes, I say never had because dreams are not real, are they? I was at the edge of the bed, the clown-thing held it's maul open for me, sharp teeth and all. The drool and spittle fell on my leg as it began to insert me into it's large gap. Then the light hit, and the thing screamed for me. The high pitch was almost enough to rip my eardrums to shreds. I remember finally being able to move, and instead of making a quick get-a-way, I covered my ears. The slurp-thump was loud as it moved toward my open bedroom door. I glanced to the light, instantly blind. Before I turned away I saw dark eyes, almost the color of warm dark chocolate. These eyes I will not forget, just as I would not forget the slurp-thump of the clownapus' movement to escape. To this day, I have never seen the creature again, or the eyes in the light that had saved me. Odd dream huh?
Only, the next morning when I woke up in a pool of sweat and wet sheets, I had a white mark around my right ankle. It is there to this day, and nothing in my logical mind has been able to explain how, why, or if... I stopped trying.
Now:
An empty classroom...
Getting the food was no problem. Noah, in all his school travels and detentions, had made several friends in the kitchens. The house elf he always was so nice to had no objections to sneaking him out some sandwiches made with turkey and chicken, complete with a small tray of veggies and dip. The meal would be complete with apple pie with wedges of cheddar cheese over the top. A decent sized bottle of pumpkin juice would complete the drinking portion of the meal. All this was neatly tucked away in a small bag that Noah held under his arms. He placed them on the small table, not much furniture in this room. He closed the door, whispered as he touched the knob with his wand, and then placed the tool beside the bag of lunch. He turned to his now partner-in-crime, and smiled once again.
It had not escaped his attention that her eyes were brown, almost warm chocolate brown, but he would not let the deeper thoughts crawl into the forefront of his mind. That would open up too many questions, and he did not want to remember that right now. In fact, it did not matter to the older Noah as it might have to the younger boy in that long ago dream. Besides, why would he want to ruin the day -as it was just getting started- to recall something dark and horrible. He was sure he would rather spend his time gazing at her smile, and participating in the small talk that was promised. He moved the bag over, and placed his hip against the desk. With a small shove it moved to one of the only three windows in the room. Noah moved the curtain away, and light moved through the old glass to light-up their desk, and most of the rest of the room.
Again, Noah turned to her. "Well, it does not go a long way to set a romantic atmosphere, but it will do. Unless you prefer something better?" He thought it would do just fine, but with girls sometimes you could not tell. The room was old, slightly dusty, and looked as if it had not been used for a long time. In fact, it had not. It was the old Transfiguration room, and had been used as storage and detention when the Transfiguration professor had moved classes. Seemingly forgotten, the room smelled a little moldy, but not in a vulgar way. It was private, and with his charm on the door knob, no one would be bothering them. The door would not open from the outside. Honestly, Noah was not sure why he had locked it like that, but he sometimes lets things happen. Instead of thinking too much, he had a tendency to just do things. This caused him no endless amount of detentions, and made his red hot temper burn at times. Today, it was a different story.
Today, he was with Tuesday.
Then/Future:
Here/There...
Her eyes were the color of warm dark chocolate...
{{Sorry it took so long...}}