Bad Dream

• Jude Ugwu, Grade 8
• Short Story
• 2015

I was falling from the sky. The air was warm and humid and it was pitch black. I could hear voices in my head calling my name, “Rukun! Rukun wake up!” I knew I was dreaming, but the dream felt so real I wasn't really sure. I must have been falling for hours at a speed that would've definitely gotten me a ticket.
At long last, I hit the bottom with a loud “THUMP” and should have broken every bone in my body because I felt like a human pancake. One thing was for sure. I wasn't on Earth. The ground didn't feel like earth with its rough surface and dusty plains. Instead it felt cold and smooth, like glass but way thicker. This earth seemed to have been floating or drifting through the air.
It was still very dark and hot. The air was a lot thicker than before so it was hard to breathe. The only light source was from a single light bulb just floating in mid-air. For some reason, I needed to get to that light bulb. It seemed to have been radiating warmth and energy. With all of my remaining strength (and I had very little of it), I got up and walked to the bulb and with every step my feet burned like fire.
When I finally got to the light, I let all of my fatigue overwhelm me and slumped to the ground. My feet still ached from my big drop from the sky and my head was spinning. I tried to think but it was impossible with the voices that were calling my name and when I opened my eyes, I could swear I was seeing stars.
After some time past, I could hear rumbling. It sounded like snoring and it shook the whole of the floating earth. I tried to get up but I was still very tired. The rumbling became louder and the ground was really shaking now. I had no trouble getting up with my feet because all that shaking made me roll off the floating earth and plummet through the air, again.
My eyes shot open immediately. I wasn't falling to my death anymore; instead I was on a soft, fluffy surface. It was a bed. My body sits upright by itself and I looked around and saw I was on my bed in my room. My forehead was beaded with sweat and so were my hands. “It was all a bad dream.” I say to myself with a sigh of relief.