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They blinked, staring upwards.
…
This was unfamiliar.
…
Where exactly were they?
…
He surveyed the blank, dark space. For how dark it was they were sure lit up good.
They moved a little bit, expecting to hear a noise when they stepped. Them being shocked when greeted with utter silence would be a close understatement.
He didn’t understand, just a minute ago they were in bed. Redying for the school day tomorrow. But now, he was in a dream?
No.
This couldn’t be a dream, could it?
Well it wasn't.
More of like, a premonition.
A future look, someone to tell you something.
Like in those superhero tv shows or something you’ve always watched.
When the superhero’s future self comes back to tell their past self how to beat the villain.
An infinite loop you might say.
Well, he couldn’t be more shocked to see himself lying dead in a hospital bed.
With a tall, looming figure staring at his corpse.
It was such an unnatural feeling.
The figure, or presumably a skeleton, crouched down a bit before catching the glaring look of the boy.
They stood back up, placing a hand on the hospital bed railing.
“Yo.” He felt unnerved for some reason. A new feeling to be added to his book. But that wasn’t important right now. What was this, oddly striking similar skeleton doing over his body. “What’er ya doin?”
…
The guy gazed at them for a moment. Although the guy's eyes were covered by sunglasses, it appeared he was reminiscing, like they were looking into a time capsule.
They fixed their shades.
“Jus’ here ta’ tell ya somethin,” That.. That was MY voice. Fresh thought to himself, watching this guy closely.
Why, Why were dey speakin’ with my voice? HECK dey even mimicked the way I spoke.
…
“Look, Ik ya recognize dis guy here,” The guy pointed to Fresh in the hospital bed, “N’ ya might jus’ be wonderin why yer here.”
…
“But uh’, m’ tellin ya dis lil’ me,” WHAT, why would dey refer ta I’ as “lil’ me”? Dis dream or wtvr was gettin weird as heckity.
But I realized, dat just like da TV shows, dis guy…
Might be an old’a me?
Wasn’t fully convinced d’tho.
What I now assumed ta be an old’a me looked as if he was collectin his words.
“Jus’ try ta cushion yer fall,”... “Or, ya might jus’ end up like dis”.
And with that final sentence, the dream ended.
Or again, what was thought to be a dream.
It was very confusing.
What did ‘Fresh’ mean by fall.
How would he end up like that?
..
What was going to happen tomorrow.