Sweet Encounters

I walk through the local mall, eyeing the stores on either side as I go. I enter a large open atrium and see a woman from work walking toward me. She is a beautiful Hispanic woman. She greets me excitedly, then rummages through her purse and pulls out what looks like a Danish but is actually made of gummy candy. She tells me that she bought it for her child but wants me to have it instead. I take the candy.

I wake up

Roaming Chickens

Behind my childhood church in Anderson, Indiana, lie acres of woodland. These woods feature trails leading to cabins, gazebos, a secret bench, named Meditation Point, overlooking a ridge and creek, and a hidden lake in a clearing amid the trees. A few locals know about the lake, but not enough to draw a crowd. 

I stroll along a trail toward the church when I reach a fork. One path leads to the church, the other ascends a hill to a gazebo. I spot my dad hiking on the latter. I stop to converse with him. As we talk, I glance into the woods and notice he's set up a small chicken coop, complete with fencing, a henhouse, and roaming chickens.

As my dad and I talk, I glance up toward the gazebo, only to find it gone. In its place now lie a few small boulders. Things have changed since I was here last.

I wake up

Train and Trolley

My father aspired to emulate Evel Knievel, planning to launch a train across a thousand-foot gap in the tracks. I had originally agreed to join the stunt, but fear of death compelled me to back out. On the day of the event, another person and I ran several miles along the beach to secure a prime vantage point. Miraculously, my father succeeded.

That same day, another spectacle unfolded on the artificial island where we were stationed: a trolley ascending one of its extended hillsides. Tragically, one of the women aboard perished. I found this perplexing, as the trolley posed no apparent risk—it climbed slowly and steadily up the incline.

I wake up. 

Evil In Her Eyes

On a field trip, we traveled to an old mansion with what appeared to be ancient ruins nearby. I joined a few friends in exploring the ruins. While they continued onward, I walked back to where the bus was parked—only to find it gone. We'd been left behind.

I sprinted down the length of the driveway, leaving my friends behind but hoping they'd catch up. Spotting the bus at the end of the drive, I screamed for the driver to stop. They did. I boarded and found a seat at the back, next to the teacher and her daughter. The teacher's daughter wasn't in our class; she was much younger, around the age of five.

Partway through the bus ride, I glanced at the young girl and noticed her face starting to contort, her voice shifting to that of a man. She growled and spat at me. I knew it was the mansion—something evil there had attached itself to her.

At that moment, I realized we'd left a few of my friends behind. I yelled, "Tim, are you in here?" No answer. We had to turn the bus around.

My friends were still on the second floor of the mansion, in a small bedroom with a bed and a television. A sinister presence hung in the air, though nothing was visible. One of them walked to another bedroom to check on the others.

We returned to the mansion. They made their way downstairs and out the door, feeling the evil around them the whole time, then hurried back to the bus.

All seemed well. I changed seats to a row in front of where I'd been sitting and looked back at the young girl. There was still evil in her eyes.

I wake up.