Dreaming of Jim

Dear Diary,

You are not going to believe what i have dreamt of last night. It was incredibly frightening, and yet i would give anything to be able to go back to it. Before i begin, i want you to know that i am a chicken shit when it comes to scary movies, scary theme parks, and sometimes, horror novels. Even Halloween is a challenge for me (there’s a really funny story about that in which i will do my best to remember to write about someday.) I have a strong belief in the supernatural and paranormal. So if i don’t deal with it in real life, i will do my best not to get worked out over movies.

With that in mind, let me set the scene. I grew up in a small town called Whittier in South LA. I lived in a gray-blue house on Calmada Ave that was 3 bedrooms and 2 bath. I lived there with my parents, and my younger brother and sister-i was the eldest. I loved that house so much, and i went through the biggest heartbreak from it (another tale to tell someday.) On this street just at the end of my block, there was another house that was always kept in great shape in the years we lived there. It was a caramel yellow house with the door on the front facing the street (our house had the door facing the left side toward the driveway.) I have only been inside that house only once for a Halloween party that the owner’s kid’s friend invited my little sister to, along with whomever she chose to accompany her. 

It was a very roomy house, it was very wide and had more than 3 bedrooms i believe. They had a small but tidy back yard, and several hallways. I don’t remember much about the interior without the Halloween props and decorations, but i had an idea, but after last night, i remember all of the house and it’s interior.

I remember it was daytime, early summer it seemed. It was warm and the sun was luscious. I walked into the house along with several people i don’t know, at least i believe i don’t. No one in that house seemed familiar to me. Our host from i remember was a business man of some sort, and he held this little group of people like a cocktail party. There were about 40-55 people packed into this house, chatting away and enjoying drinks. From what i observed, no one seemed to know each other very well. There was an atmosphere that resembled like you would encounter at a public affair. The ages were about from 25-40. I believe i was the youngest there, since i didn’t see anyone that looked younger than 25. As i would in real life, i just stood in the corner with my drink watching everyone chat and kinda swayed with the music just for something to do. No one spoke to me.

It wasn’t until the music stopped and our host came in that everyone started to settle down on every available chair and sofa and sat to listen to what he was about to say. Those who found no seat stood against the walls or tables with their drink in hand. 

I don’t remember what he said exactly, but it was along the lines of "Welcome, I hope you’re enjoying yourselves, I am your host, blah blah blah blah blah, you’re never getting out alive."

You can imagine my surprise on our faces as men in dark apparel took us all forcefully to the different rooms in the house. Some resisted, some fought to escape, but they were beaten to submission, and our host simply lounged on a chair with a martini and grinned as we were taken away like animals.

They took me to a room that was painted a pale pink. There was no furniture, no vents, not even a ceiling fan. Just a barred window, and bowls of what looked like dog food in the far corner. There were newspapers and dirty blankets on the floor as well.  Each person was handcuffed to another so that everyone was paired with someone. There were ten of us in the room. I remember a thin, blond, and tanned woman in a red sleeveless one-shouldered mini dress cuffed to an older and rather large white gentleman who i believe hadn’t stopped sweating since he arrived. I also believe that there were two other men joined that just couldn’t get along to save their lives (literally). They would be completely oblivious to everything except their heated discussions. How they were able to stand each other for as long as they did was beyond me.

I was handcuffed to a man, about 26 with long, soft dark brown hair, and he had a face that was handsome and unique, but that also reminded me of Jim Carry when he was in the movie The Number 23 (great movie btw.) He was a very serious fellow tho, he hardly ever looked at me, even less, spoke to me. But he was one of those few people in which you could sit in silence, and comfortably understand each other completely. I was grateful for that, for i didn’t have much to say to begin with, and even less under the current situation. There was an intercom somewhere in each room, and we heard the booming voice of our host, and he told us that only one of us from each room would make it alive, but only if everyone else was killed. Only then will he be free. 

At this, we can hear the panic and screaming all around the house. And our host informed us that screaming and pounding wouldn’t do us any good. The walls were soundproof, the windows bullet proof and barred. The doors were steel and locked. No ventilation, cement on the ground. There was no escape for anyone. We even had a time limit. We had 4 days to do our best to escape, and if no one succeeded, then they would all be killed. We were speechless, and could only look at each other in horror as they locked us in. 

 To be continued….