No More Dreams: A Short Prose

180410120005/A

Summary: This short story is about I who wants to end her guilt and her nightmares as a result of accidentally killing her grandmother.

The rain poured down the city. It had been a week and maybe for another days. This room was not bright enough. There was just a light from the table lamp on the nightstand beside my bed. It was 2 a.m. I was tired, but I could not sleep. I got out of my bed, paced up and down inside the room. I looked at the photos on the wall. There was a photo when I was seven with my deceased parents. The next, when I was ten with my grandmother on Chrismast Day. And the last, a month ago with my grandmother on my twentieth birthday. Still, she was as beautiful as the old days; her hair as pitch black as ever. I went back to my bed, turned off the lights and tried to sleep. Still, I could not sleep. The room was very quiet. Very dark. It should be easier for me to sleep. But still, I could not.

Suddenly something like pushed me fall. I thought I just fell asleep a few hours ago. I woke up in a cold sweat and heart pounding. I clutched the end of the pillowcase; curled my knees to my chest. The sunlight broke through the window blinds, a sign that was already noon.

Time seemed to go by quickly. It was the next night. Still, I could not sleep just like the last night. I thought I heard voices that whispered to my ears. It seemed like the voice of my grandmother or my mother or my father or it is actually their voice that whispered to my ears alternately.

“It was your fault!” I heard it again and again.

I did not know whether this was real or not. I was in a cold sweat and my heart was pounding. It was 2 a.m. I could not even sleep. I opened the drawer of my nightstand beside my bed. I thought I still kept a sleeping pill. And there were still. I hoped it worked.

I was dreaming about five policemen came to the house, and they were looking for Miss Marry.

“Yes, I am Marry,” I replied.

“I am sorry Miss, but we have to arrest you due to the murder case you did against Mrs. Dorry, your grandmother,” said a white-haired cop.

“But …” I tried to resist. However, I have no choice. They took me to the office and sentence me to death by hanging.

The rope was around my neck. “Perhaps this is the best way. I am sure it will not hurt. This will not take too much time. With all of my heart I welcome my new world,” I told myself.

Suddenly something like pushed me fall. I woke up in a cold sweat and heart pounding. “That is enough! I am not going to sleep now,” I was annoyed at myself. I regretted that I wanted to sleep before. I would not sleep. I just sat on my bed all day long, watching the clock chimed.

Time seemed to go by quickly. It was the next night. Still, I did not want to sleep. It was 2 a.m. My eyes were sore. My body went limp. Perhaps when I was heedless, I could fall asleep in one blink.

Then I heard a voice.

“Thank you. Now, I do not have to suffer anymore. This tuberculosis that affects me over five years really made me in pain. Now, I am not going to burden you again. You do not have to take care of me anymore,” my grandmother said.

“Grandma, it was not like what you think. I did not mean to do that,” cried I. But then, she was gone instantly.

“Am I really talking with her?” I said to myself.

Suddenly something like pushed me fall. I woke up in a cold sweat and heart pounding. I clutched the end of the pillowcase; curled my knees to my chest.

“Oh .. I was dreaming about my grandmother,” said I. Then I got out of my bed and went to the grandmother’s room.

She was still there, lying on the bed in her white simple vintage-dress, smiling so peaceful. Well… It had been three days.

“I am sorry, Grandma. I swear it was an accident. It was not like what you imagine. I did not mean to do that. I did not intend to push a wheelchair that you are sitting on even until it tumbled down and your head hit the floor. I was upset because you did not take any medicines you were supposed to drink regularly. I just wanted you to be healthy. I really love you, Grandma,” said I to grandmother.

Someone knocked on the front door unexpetedly. I have no idea what I have to do.

“Don’t tell me there is a cop!” said I, surprised.

I ran to the cellar as soon as I could and I took the rope that long enough; I made the knot from it.

The rope was around my neck. “Maybe this is the best way. I am sure it will not hurt. This will not take too much time. All of my guilt will vanish. Just let the police found my corpse and my grandmother’s dead body that has been lying down on her bed. With all of my heart I welcome my new world,” I told myself.

And the rain still poured down the city.

Thank you to Rizqy Aulia Gifari, Amalia Ulfah Khanza, Novianti Siswandini, and Vera Citra Utami

References:

– Dee’s Rectoverso

– Wikipedia. “Hanging” (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hanging)

BGM:

www.soundjay.com

http://soundbible.com/

– Agatha Christea – Sleeping Murder Audiobook (

)

Word count: (907)

Link for dramatization:

https://soundcloud.com/antyacatradenira/uas-creative-writing-no-more-dreams

2 thoughts on “No More Dreams: A Short Prose

  1. 180410120087/ E
    I am interested in the plot of this story because it is unique. It uses chronological plot but also seemed using reverse plot. However, I think the plot is actually chronological plot because it begins with her dreams and then the events after the dreams. While the reason it seemed like reverse plot is because her dreams and the dialog. Some dialogs represent the event that happened before them indirectly and some are directly. The dreams, although it shows the following event, it represents the guilt that is caused by her deed to her grandmother. In my opinion, it is felicitous to use this way in this story because it supported the theme, the main idea and the ending to be clearer.
    Words: 122

    Like

  2. 180410120080/A

    You build the thrill in the story very well. The way you describe the main character’s anxiety makes the readers want to read the story until the end. However, I find an important point in your story, which is the repetition. For example, the main character who has dreams over and over again until she cannot distinguish between the dream and reality, until the sentence “Suddenly something like pushed me fall” makes her (and me) realize that it is just a dream. In addition, the sentence “It was 2 a.m” every time the main character wakes up makes it ambiguous that she really wakes up or it is just a dream within dream. In the climax, you make the main character hang herself exactly the same way and say the same words like in her dream. She realizes her own nightmare to end the nightmare itself. Great story.

    (148)

    Like

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