A Nightmare? A Nightmare.

I’m 4 years old. My best friend and I are walking along the wood line at his house. We’re talking. Just talking. We walk a few steps into the woods. Only as far as his mom allows us to go on our own. There’s a cave. It’s almost concealed by greenery, but you can see a black hole about 5 feet around. We peek into the dark circle, expecting to catch a glimpse of the end, but there’s nothing to be seen but shadows. We stumble into the cave. Stepping cautiously but our curious, young minds are getting the best of us. Walking and talking, walking and talking. Just wandering into this strange cave in his woods. I have purple Crocs and a knee length, plaid dress on with my light blond hair half up. He’s wearing shorts and a navy t-shirt that has Red Soxs embroidered on the front, with a shaggy, dark mop of hair lining his tan forehead. Out of nowhere, we come to the edge of a cliff. The dark rock drops down into a pool of something red and black. It looks like lava but darker. It starts rising up to the edge of the cliff. I think it’s oil. It’s bubbling and boiling hot. It keeps rising up towards us. We just stand there, weirdly fascinated. It keeps coming up until it’s about 10 inches away from the edge of the rock. We’re a bit startled but it’s stopped now. He sits on the edge, takes his sandals off and touches the black stuff with the tip of his big toe. His foot disappears. A nightmare? He looks right at me with his big brown eyes. I can’t tell what he’s thinking but strangely, he’s not in any pain. He touches it again, this time with his fingers. Now his hand is gone. It just vanishes into thin air. I’m confused and terrified all at the same time. He dips his whole leg in and this time and he’s just… gone. My best friend just faded into nothing right in front of me! Now I’m scared for real. A nightmare. The oil starts rising again. I don’t know what to do. Where did he go? All I can think is to run out of the cave as fast as my little legs can carry me. So that’s what I do. 

I wake up. A bit sticky from sweat. I swore I could feel the wind in my hair, my dress brushing against my legs, the sun on my face, even smell the familiar scent of summer time in his backyard. But everything was just a dream. 

I pull the covers off of my body, about to go into my mom’s room so she can assure me it was just a bad dream and send me back to bed. However, I rethink getting out of bed the second my feet feel the night air. A new fear has been planted into my adolescent mind. I’m afraid of boiling oil appearing from beneath the creaky floorboards in my room. I stay in my bed and try to fall asleep. Eventually, I’ll learn to get over it, but until then, my tiny tot head can’t help but think, my night light and white carpet are the only things protecting me from the unknown substance that will make you disappear.