The clock face…..me shouting…….my friend turning……a look of horror etched upon his face…..then the bus….
I awoke dripping with sweat. The bed sheets clung to my body like wet tissue paper. I shrugged off the duvet and sat on the edge of the bed, my eyes struggling to adjust to the darkness. I raised my hand instinctively to my forehead and felt the cold, clamminess of my skin.
Was that a dream?
It must have been.
But it seemed so real.
I couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen. Like a sixth sense, I wondered if what I’d just experienced was actually a premonition, and I’d actually just caught a glimpse of the future. Nah, what was I thinking, I’ve clearly been watching too many bloody sci-fi films.
Only when I stood, did I notice how heavy my breathing was. I could feel my heartbeat pounding in my eardrums.
Can dreams do that to you?
Nightmares can I suppose, and that’s exactly what that was, a fucking nightmare. I couldn’t even remember the last time I had one. When I was a kid maybe?
I’m clearly overeating, I just needed to calm down. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I made my way over to the bathroom and pulled the light cord. I squinted as the bulb illuminated the tiled walls, and put my hand in front of my eyes to shield them from the brightness.
Walking to the basin, I turned on the cold water tap and splashed my face a few times before grabbing the hand towel off the hook to dab it dry. The cold felt good against my skin and I felt my heart rate slowing. I replaced the hand towel and looked at myself in the mirror.
Jesus Christ I was pale. It was as if the blood had completely drained from my face. All I’d need was a black cloak and a scythe and I’d be dead ringer for the reaper himself. Splashing my face once more, i turned off the tap and walked back into the bedroom and fell forward onto the bed.
The alarm clock on the nightstand read 06:39 and I knew there was no point trying to get back to sleep, as it was less than an hour until I usually get up for work. To be honest, I didn’t even think I could sleep if I tried. Those horrible images I’d witnessed were now etched into in my mind’s eye.
I tried to relax and get comfortable. A cool breeze blew in through the window that I’d left open to combat the summer heat, and I embraced it like a mothers hug as it raised goose pimples across my bare skin. The curtains moved in the wind letting the first bits of sunlight through, and the sun’s rays danced on the ceiling as my mind started to race again.
Surely if a dream was as vivid as reality, there must be something in it. Surely! Surely?
Question is, did I believe in such things as fate? Or destiny? or even premonitions? If I did then I’d have to believe in bloody tarot cards, crystal balls and fucking fortune tellers, and I know full well that’s all a load of crap.
But….what if?? The inner working of the subconscious mind is an unfathomable and uncharted thing. Could a person actually catch a glimpse of the future? There have been stories about it. Books and movies even. But was it all fiction, or is there an element of truth in there somewhere.
I recalled a movie with Richard Gere called The Mothman Prophecies, which I do know was based on a true story. However, although many films released are BASED on a true story, the word ‘based’ is normally in the loosest of terms with maybe a tiny iota of it being fact, and the rest a work of scriptural fiction all wrapped up nicely in a Hollywood blockbuster bow.
I started to chew on my thumb nail but as it was already down to the core, I couldn’t get any purchase, so opted for the skin around it instead. Finding a bit of skin on the cuticle, I absentmindedly pulled away too hard with my teeth causing a tear to open up and my thumb to bleed. “Fuck” I shouted in pain and pulled away to check the damage. Well at least I know I’m not still dreaming if I felt that.
I licked the blood up from the side of my thumb like a thirsty vampire and pressed down on the wound with my fore finger to stem the blood flow.
As I did, I went to bite another nail, but remembering that people assign nail biting with nerves, instantly withdrew my hand from my face.
Was I nervous? Was I worried?
No. I always bite my nails. Normally out of boredom…..or hunger. But still…maybe I was.
I shrugged it off and decided to get dressed and get into work early for the first time ever. Maybe I’d even make myself an actual breakfast instead of the usual slice of toast and jam. Since becoming a 9 to 5 zombie, I’d always put the extra 10 minutes in bed as priority above a traditional greasy spoon. I was hopeful however that a nice strong coffee and a bacon sarnie would shift the unease that resonated in my bones.
As I dressed for work, I tried to recall exactly what transpired in my dream, but I could only remember snippets. I went back into the bathroom to make sure my reflection put my tie on correctly. As I followed the under and overs of the old Windsor knot, I caught my own eye in the mirror and had a sudden flashback of Danny’s face all contorted in fear, eyes wide with shock, and I staggered back nearly falling into the bath behind me.
Fuck doing the tie now I thought, and stuffed it into my trouser pocket instead.
I walked back out of the bathroom, down the hall and into the kitchen. There was still some water left in the kettle, so I flipped the switch and grabbed a mug from the cupboard. Free pouring the coffee granules into the mug, I hesitated after covering the bottom, before relenting and poured in another suspected heaped spoonful. I’m going to need a strong one to get through today I thought. I decided against cooking as my head just wasn’t in it, and leant against the kitchen top waiting for the kettle to boil.
“Ok” I said aloud “let’s say it is a premonition. What are my options? Let Danny know that he’s going to be hit by a bus. Don’t know when though! Just that he will. Yeah, I’m sure he’ll thank me for that ‘fuck off Max ya dick, that’s not funny’ he’d say and who could blame him. I’d say the same if it was the other way around. It’s a fucking dream. The problem lies with the paradox of whether telling him actually leads to the bus killing him or not. If I say nothing and he gets hit, it’s my fault and I should have told him. However, if I tell him and he starts worrying, would that lead him to make a mistake like walk in front of a bus??”
ARGGGGHHHH. My head hurt. As my mind wandered, the kettle whistled to let me know it was done and I poured the boiling water into the mug. Completely forgetting to blow over the surface of the boiling coffee, I haphazardly took a sip, burning my top lip in the process. “Arrrgh, FUCK, can this day get any worse” I shouted kicking the bottom of the washing machine,
I tipped out a third of the mug and filled it back up with cold water from the tap.
Come to think of it, I don’t understand why people wait and blow on boiling hot coffee every 2 seconds until its warm, when they can just make it warm in the first place. Personally I think it’s there to do a job. It’s not meant to be sipped and enjoyed, just get it down your Gregory Peck and await the caffeine buzz.
I gulped down the now lukewarm coffee and winced from the strength of it.
I’m just being silly, I thought. It’s fine. I’m sure everyone has dreams of other people dying. Doesn’t make THEM true though does it.
I looked down at my watch to see how long I had before leaving. As I read the digits, I got hit by another flashback of the dream. This time it was the clock above the statue in the town square. 7:45am Monday 6th September.
I snapped back and the realisation hits me like a ton of bricks. Oh shit, TODAY is Monday 6th September.
OK, ok, now that CAN’T be just coincidence. Something is wrong here. Really wrong. I look at the watch again and it reads 07:23. SHIT. Where the fuck has the time gone. Right, keep calm, just ring him and explain. I’m sure it’s just my crazy over thinking head messing with me as usual. Plus you know his missus always drops him off at work, and they don’t normally leave until about 8. Therefore a bus couldn’t hit him 15 minutes before he normally left for work, unless it went through their living room wall, and that’s highly unlikely seeing as though they live on the 3rd bloodyfloor. I let out an anxious laugh but there was no heart in it.
I ran back into the bedroom to grab my phone from the bedside table. Checking my last calls, I found him easily and pressed dial. It went straight to answerphone.
“Answer your fucking phone ya ignorant twat” I swore. I tried again but again, answerphone. This time I left a message.
“Hi mate, its Max, can you please ring me urgently…as soon as you get this ok…I’m serious mate….really need to talk to you now”
Hopefully he’ll hear the urgency in my voice when he gets it. I tried again but still the same. The boy is never off it, and the one time I need him to be, he’s not. I go into my contacts and search for his girlfriend and hit dial. It rings a few times and then goes off. WHAT THE FUCK!! She pressed ignore I know it. I’m about to throw my phone at the wall when the phone rings, I close my eyes and pray for it to be Danny. I open them and look at the phone, its Leanne, Danny’s missus. I answer the phone
“Leanne?”
“Hi Max, sorry I pres..
“Leanne, is Danny with you?”
“Well that’s rude. Why ring me..”
“Leanne, I’m not playing around, it’s urgent, is Danny with you”
“No, he’s left for work”
“But I thought you normally take him in”
“I do, but I’ve got a dentist appointment so he’s taken the bus”
As soon as I hear the word bus my heart drops
“Why isn’t he answering his phone?”
“He left it here. He forgot to charge it last night. Max what’s wrong. Is everything ok? Why are you so worried about Danny?”
“Ummm, ah it’s nothing, its just about work. What bus does he catch?”
“I think it’s the 65 from town isn’t it? You should know, doesn’t it stop outside your work?”
“Yeah. Yeah course. Uh. Thanks Lea and sorry for ringing you”
“Don’t worry, you just sound real..”
I hung up and checked my watch. 07:28. OK, It normally takes about 20 minutes to get into the town, and that’s at a brisk pace so if I run now, I’ll make it in time…I hope.
I run into the hall, slip on my trainers and I’m out the door and taking the stairs down two at a time until before it even closes. My mind races as fast as I do, as i leave the block of flats and sprint down my road taking a left at the end onto main road leading to the centre.
As i start breathing heavily, I curse how unfit I am, and it doesn’t take long before a stitch rears its ugly head. But I ignore it and keep running. Maybe I’ll die of a heart attack before I get there I think, which makes me smirk just a bit before the gravity of the situation dawns on me. I glance down at my watch again as i see the town centre in the distance, it’s 07:42 and I’m still a couple of minutes away. As time starts to meld into space, I finally get to the statue and look up to see it read 07:45, just as I’d seen in the dream. I quickly catch my breath and look over to the bus stop for the number 65 bus and sure enough Danny is standing there about 200 meters away, looking at his shoes in what I can only assume was an act of boredom.
“DANNY” I shout as loud as I can “DANNNNNNYYY”.
He doesn’t look up but instead starts fishing around in his pockets.
The roar of the traffic around me is obviously drowning my voice out. I start racing across the road towards him waving my arms and screaming his name as he takes something out of his pocket which he fumbles, and it drops onto the road in front of him. My eyes widen as he steps off the curb to pick it up and I see the bus coming up behind him. I know I’ll never reach him in time and, taking in a deep breath, scream the loudest I think I’ve ever done
“Dannnnyyy, look out behind you, the buuuuuuuus”
He finally looks and see’s me, and I start pointing behind him but as I do, the bus I was watching stops a good 8 feet from him at the bus stop just before. I stop puzzled but also relieved and again try and catch my breath looking at the floor, I look up and see Danny again but this time his expression has changed to the one I remember from the dream and finally it dawns on me, his expression is facing me not the bus behind him. I quickly spin around just as the front of the bus makes impact.
I woke up in bed, with the sun shining through the window, and was about to laugh at how real that dream had been when I realised someone was holding my hand. I turned and saw Leanne sitting by my bedside; her head was laying on her other arm on the foot of my bed. I was confused why she was in my bedroom, until the realisation hit that this wasn’t actually my bed.
“Leanne..” I croaked. My throat felt sore and it hurt to talk
She stirred and raised her head. When she saw me, she smiled and reached forward to hug my neck
“You’re awake, I knew you’d wake up”
“What? Where am i??
She stopped hugging me and leant back in her chair
“You don’t remember?”
“I remember the bus…but I thought I was dreaming”
“The bus hit you max, you’ve been in a coma for 3 weeks, and I’ve….i…” she began but turned away as the door opened and a nurse entered
“Call the doctor, he’s woken up “the nurse called back out into the corridor as she saw me
“What’s happening? Am I ok?” I questioned
“Try not to move” I could see the concern in her eyes “You’re very lucky to be alive young man. This young lady hasn’t left your side” she said sternly motioning to Leanne
Leanne looked at me, her eyes welling up
I smiled at her “Where’s Danny? Probably at the vending machine stuffing his face I bet” I joked
Upon hearing his name, Leanne broke down, started crying and ran out of the hospital room
“What?? What did I say?” I turned to the nurse confused
The Nurse sat down on the chair next to the bed
“I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this max. Your friend Danny was killed. He ran across the road to your aid when you got hit, and unfortunately got hit by another bus coming from the opposite direction. He didn’t make it”
“Wait…no…..NO…WHAT??” I shouted trying to get out of the bed
“Please….max…Lie still…please or you’ll rip your sutures” the nurse instructed as she tried to stop me moving “It was lucky your friend was an organ donor, or you might not have survived either”