Error 404

Error 404

I wake up today to a grey sort of feeling, like dawn, but mixed with bits of lint and dust. I keep having nightmares, every time I dare to close my eyes, but I must keep moving. 

I am so tired.

Groggily, and perhaps even reluctantly, I reach over to my nightstand and turn my alarm clock to face me.

The red paint seems to glow a dull brown in the low light of the night, like dried blood and of auburn skies.

It reads: 1:10.

No matter, I will not be able to return to blissful unconsciousness now. Sleep is nothing but a passing illusion, and oh the irony! It is naught but a dream.

I roll onto my back, eyes fixed on the crack in the ceiling that I fancy looks almost like a goat. 

Everything is in shades of gray.

I sigh, incredibly put upon. 

The bed creaks as I shift to get up. Perhaps I will start my day early. There is an eerie silence hanging in the air, but one can expect that in the dead of night.

I pull back the curtains to look out the window, perhaps for a moment. Mrs. Woodrosky mentioned in passing that there would be a full moon tonight.

And it looks like she was right in this observation.

Already, I can see moonlight probing its way through the half-opened slats of the curtains. 

It casts rays of silver and of white across my room so dark and grey.

I open the curtain all the way now, looking for the source of such an ethereal light. I have always loved the moon.

But hanging there in the sky is not a sphere of magic and of dreams.

The moon is gone.

In its place hangs bright letters. They spell: ‘ERROR 404’

Slowly, as if in a daze or in a dream, I raise my hand to peer at my watch. It is now 1:11. 

I rub my eyes. Perhaps this is some hallucination brought on by my chronic lack of sleep. Perhaps I should head back to bed.

The stars flicker, as if they are glitching, but the sign glows steadily on.

I don’t.

Instead, I stumble back.

No, no, I should not be scared. This is only a figment of my overactive mind, plagued with sleep deprivation.

I turn back to my bed. Perhaps I should retire back to sleep.

But it, too, is gone. I whip my head wildly around, but everything has been replaced by the one wretched message; ERROR 404

I raise my hand again to check my watch.

It blinks once.

Twice.

And it too disappears into ERROR 404

What could possibly be going on? What is happening? My hands travel up to tug on my hair as my breathing hastens to match my heartbeat.

I can hear it in my ears.

But no, it cannot be the erratic thumping of my heart, the noise is steady, much too steady.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

My cheeks are wet, with what, I do not know, but I feel laughter bubbling up from the depths of my soul. I clutch at my arms, breathing coming now only in short, sharp gasps.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

There is nothing around me now, nothing but glowing green signs. My hair is clutched at again, and I know, oh yes, I know with a foul certainty that I must look a fool right now!

But what else can one do?

I look down, perhaps in an effort to steady myself, but my legs seem to be slowly dissipating.

Please.

Please, no, don’t let me disappear, oh God oh God oh God. Please–

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

And then silence. I realize now that I am floating in midair, but the horror around me seems to have disappeared. 

There is nothing but darkness now.

And when I open my eyes to see the world restored, I hear it still—

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

I look out the window.

The moon still glows green.