I awoke to a blood curdling scream that traveled down the corridor, only to soon realize it was none other than my own. The fresh air stung like bleach in my nose. I looked around the room to find not a soul in sight. I stuck my hand underneath the sweat covered pillow and pulled out “The Book of Nightmare”. The book held all my terrifying and vivid dreams. I turned to the next blank page and slid out the grey bic pen from the books’ coiled spine. I started to write.

 

         Today’s date is- Well I’ll write it down later… Last nights terrors was gross, I was the king of these… Zombie like people. They were all following me to battle. My job was to kill a girl (I forgot her name) and to destroy the world. A tall, stocky man came out of nowhere and told the “Lost Souls” to finish me. The older man laughed meanly and simply said “That is what you get for being a little brat, son!” I am assuming that I had too much ice cream last night because I clearly know I do not have a father, or any family for that matter.

 

         “Elliot! Are you okay? I heard you scream from across the building.” I heard a voice in the doorway. Spooked, I put my book under my pillow and sat up in an unorderly manner.

 

         “Yes, I am fine.” I was lying not only to her, but myself as well. I noticed she had a tupperware container filled with water, and a dirty old rag stained with the blood of another child's stupidity. Making her way to my side she smiled gently. “If only these goddamn nightmares would stop, then maybe I’d have better luck.” I shook my head in disapproval.

 

         “Elliot! What have I told you about using that word?” Alma scolded me. I simply looked up to the ceiling.

   

         “Sorry God.” I giggled a little, than the orphanage's nanny joined in.

 

         She looked at me, her eyes were narrowing in confusement. She scratched her wiry grey hair and blinked a few times. “I guess my old age is getting to me…” Her voice was soft and motherly. Alma grabbed the cloth and started to wash away my sleepy state. I tried to reject it but nonetheless she continued.

 

         “Now we can’t have you looking like that, especially on your big day!” She removed the comb from my side dresser and attempted to groom me.

 

         “Why, what’s today?” Nanny Alma smiled at my inattentiveness. With a pat on the head she spoke.

 

         “Why- it’s your birthday, silly! 10 years and going strong!” She returned to cleaning my face. Her hands were wrinkled but still able to lift my head. She looked into my eyes. For an old lady, her eyes were still a stunning hazel.

 

         “Oh I totally forgot…” I was too caught up in the dream realm to remember my own birthday.

 

         “Those dirt spots just aren’t going away!” The nanny put more pressure on my face. “You know what, no worries. I want you to be happy, and if those spots are not bothering, then leave them be. Also, I heard a rumor going around that today’s breakfast is going to be good.” Her smile was big. She pulled my out of my brick hard bed and sent me down the staircase.

 

         As I descended down the stairs, the smell of pancakes slithered into my nose. Before I could reach the kitchen I was lured down the hall to the calendar. It was printed in bold lettering “July 2, 2015”. I sighed in discomfort. I look at birthdays as another year without a family. Most of the kids, they know why they’re here, but me… I have no parents, or family. I have no story. I don’t even know who I am…  And the worst part about it, was the fact that whoever abandoned me- left me with a stupid key! I thought again to myself that this key must have seen centuries before me. Touching the rusted object I turned away from the large piece of paper that hung on the wall and stumbled into the kitchen.

 

         Something caught my tired eyes in an instance. It was my best friend and roommate, Chip. He was waving his hand like he was drowning. It must have been his, “I’m ova’ here” signal. As I was standing in line for my food, I thought to myself. He was a lovable little turd. Not that I was attracted to him, no. But he is my best friend. My one and only friend. I remember when we first me. We have had some fun times together.

 

         I took a seat next to Chip immediately. As always, he was stuffing his face with food. “So, what ya dream bout’ last night?” He said in his croaky voice. The food came falling out of his mouth and the plate was still full with food debris.

 

         “Oh… You know. Same old, same old.” I was not in a pleasant mood. At least Chip understood me. Everyone else here thinks I am a nut case. He actually listens- more or less intrigued by my frightful hallucinations.

 

         “Man that must su-” He stopped to look up and at a moment's glance his face went from satisfies to disturbed.  “Holy… What the heck happened to your face?” He dropped his fork and jumped back in his seat.

 

         “What do you mean? It’s just dirt.” I picked up my sterling spoon and flipped it around, only to see the gruesome reflection. My face looked as if I had taken an unnatural beating. Pale and bruised, eyes bloodshot- I didn’t look like this earlier. Horrified I stood up, I started feeling uneasy and shaken. I did not say another word.

 

“Hey, are you going to finish your food?” Dodging throughout the crowd of hungry children, I heard chip yell to me.

 

         I made my way up what seemed to be a never ending staircase, pulling myself up along the rail. When I finally reached my bedroom at the end of the hall, I fell to the rough, worn down white carpet. I lied there, hungover in pain. I could have sworn my body was on fire. I panted harder and harder, but the burning sensation did not stop. I closed my eyes and prayed that this feeling would go away, but I was ripped from my thoughts as an alarm tore through the air. I saw the flames spit into the doorway, that’s when I realized it. I was trapped.

 

         Fire was my favorite element. Ever since I could remember, I had been fascinated by it. How could something so pretty be so destructive? I remembered when me and Chip would sit around the campfire. We would burn marshmallows until they were nothing. Maybe this was payback?

 

         As smoke filled my tiny lungs, I fought to keep my breath. The aged key was lit up, bright red and untouchable. I felt it scorch my tender neck. The fire alarm was no longer an annoying beep, but a high-frequency shrill. Covering my ears, I attempted to yell, but my voice was only drowned out by the screaming siren. With just enough strength to pick my dying self up, I noticed my mirror. A crack exploded out as the reflective shards were thrown into my face. Yet again I was on the floor, tears and blood dripping from my face.

 

         I managed to open one eye. A little fragment of the once whole mirror was showing me a demonic representation of me. My eyes were no longer a pale blue, but now a piercing yellow. I prayed that this was just another nightmare, only to be struck down by approaching footsteps. Turning over, pain doubling in intensity- I saw him.