Free One by J. A. Laraque Page B

had dreamt about prior to then.
    I opened the door to the church and stepped back out into the street, when I did it reminded me of those dreams. Startled by an unfamiliar noise I would sit up in bed. With my eyes still closed I would reach over and flip the light switch. Scared of the dark, I would open my eyes to find it was morning, but I also realized the lights did not work.
    I would leave my room and would search the upstairs of the house, thoroughly checking the bathroom and then the baby’s room before opening the door to my parent’s bedroom. Finding no one upstairs I would make my way downstairs which lead to the laundry room and then into the kitchen. There were no sounds or smells in the house that would alert me to anyone’s presence; it was then that I would start to feel fear creep up into me.
    A desperate need to run out of the house would come over me. I would rush toward the wooden screen door pushing it open with all my might. Outside it would still be daylight just as it was when I exited the church, but it was an eerie daylight as if the sun was being forced to shine and the light it would cast was dim, cold, and almost angry. That light brought me no comfort, a cloudless sky and my home and neighborhood just as it was in the waking world but devoid of all life.
    There was no need for a monster to frighten me. The world created in my dreams by my sub consciousness was a terror stronger than any demon. No need to search, my mind understood its fate and my body would surrender. Falling to my knees I would close my eyes and cry until I would wake up. Back in my bedroom this time startled awake by my dreams my hand would shake reaching for the light switch because I knew if it did not turn on my nightmare had not yet ended.
     
    What we leave behind
    The overcast from earlier had disappeared. I wondered if the clouds had left me as well. With nothing inside the church but troublesome memories it was time to select another destination. I wanted to check on the fire that was burning toward Christine’s home. I turned back onto North Avenue before heading west toward Wells Street. Just before leaving, I turned back and looked toward my apartment.
    My thoughts returned to my standing on the ledge of the balcony unable to jump from it. I wondered if I was unable to find any answers or reason for this world would I have the courage to return and release myself from it. If my imprisonment in this empty box was to teach me that a world of one was not a world to behold then I had learned my lesson, but I knew it was not that simple. Exploration of my memories was not just my mind struggling against insanity, but a clue to this awful mystery.
    Unendingly pointless my eyes scanned each window I passed hoping that there was something I missed. I stopped at the intersection of North Avenue and Wells Street, the fire had spread quicker than I realized. Watching my neighborhood burn to the ground was just a prelude to what would eventually fall upon a world devoid of life.
    An image appeared in my mind, it was from Ashley’s room. The letter jacket her boyfriend gave her. Lincoln Park High School, she chose that school because of him. My father was set to send her to the same school I went to but it was my mother who convinced him to change his mind. Reasons for her attendance there were not important, during orientation the staff gave a history of the school including the knowledge that a bomb shelter was built in its basement.
    Secondary to a church a school specifically one built to house people in an emergency would be an obvious choice to find shelter. I headed west toward Halsted Street when I realized there was a hole in my investigations theory. If only the city was evacuated then it would be reasonable to assume that an attack or some form of devastation was imminent. If that were the case then why would people remain behind even within a bomb shelter? Of course there are well documented cased of people