Dreaming of Jim Pt. 2

Dear Diary,

I have left you in the room in which they have locked us in. The first day was full of debate and ideas to escape. We believed that our loved ones would be looking for us. We hoped, and we feared that no one would be able to find us in time. We also talked about why this maniac had us all here to begin with. Was there a connection between us and him somehow? Or was he simply crazy and devised this whole scheme just to quench his thirst for blood? I thought there was too much effort and preparation for this just to be a spur of the moment event. This was planned and well thought out. My hope sank.

I have to say, even in dreams, our nightmares take on a form so great, that when its at its darkest, the hopelessness that you feel is powerful, incredible, overwhelming. This isn’t the worst dream i had ever had, but its definately in my top 5.

There was so much screaming heard from another room. We suspected someone took this game seriously and that was so horrid, my hands weren’t enough to shut out the sound. As the hours passed, tension mounted, and it took so much for us to keep from panicking. The woman in the red dress wouldn’t stop crying throughout the entire dream.

We ended up eating from the bowls in the corner, not all since we couldn’t know if they came in to feed us. They didn’t. And as a last resort, we ended up using the newspapers in the corner for our personal business. When night came, we slept on our own spaces.

We learned a bit about each other in that room. The woman in red worked in a department store for women and just broke up with her bf. She wasn’t as stuck up as most people would think. The large gentleman worked for a museum and said he liked pretty and pleasant things. One of the grumpy men said he worked in bonds while the other did a lot of traveling.  I just said i was a girl in school just trying my place in the world. Jim wouldn’t say anything. I am disappointed in myself for not being able to know anyone’s name. Not even Jim’s. Maybe i may find them in real life someday. I hope so anyway.

I had a bit of a bonding moment with my handcuffed other. I remember he hardly said a word at all through most of the dream. I remember i stared at him when he wasn’t looking. He had on a long sleeved beige or white shirt and dark blue jeans. Black shoes or sneakers i think. And his dark hair hung over his eyes. He was simple. He was lean but not muscular. He looked like he could run fast but not lift much. He was plain, but he had a way about him that was calming.

As everyone slept, he wouldn’t. I remember he just held his knees to his chest and stared at the tinted window. I tried to start a conversation, but he never answered. I kept talking, i suppose more for myself than him, but he listened. I told him of my family, and my paintings. And how i wished i had real friends so i wouldn’t be so lonely in the world. I think he nodded at a comment i made about something. I knew nothing of this boy. He never spoke to me, but i liked him. I told him so, and i may have just imagined it, but i think he smiled slightly. I ended up falling asleep leaning against him. I remember he was hard and tense, but very warm. 

The second day was full of more unpleasant noises. I was starting to break down myself as well with each fading scream from the hallways. It wasn’t until i heard a woman beg for her life for the sake of her children that i really finally broke out in a hysterical sob, and much to my surprise, Jim pulled me into his chest and let me cry out for her. When i let it all out he loosened his grip but didn’t let me go. He just quietly told me that it was alright, that i was alright. It was then that one of the disagreeable men shouted at us that none of this was alright and that we were all going to die. It was then that the woman in red snapped and told him to shut up. He got up and smacked her, and then the large gentlemen who was handcuffed to her rose and grabbed him by the neck and rammed him against the wall. He was going for a punch, and then his hands began to shake and he sank to the floor. He had a heart attack, and he died shortly after. Then the asshole started up again and the other man had enough and strangled him to death as the woman in red shouted in delight.

There were 4 of us left in that room. I wondered how long we would last in this damn room before the host called his men to finish everyone off. We didn’t speak to each other the rest of the night. Jim never let go of me. I stayed in his arms or laid in his lap. At night when he finally fell asleep for the first time in 2 days, he rested his head on my shoulder. He smelled so good. Not of cologne or deoderant. It was a natural musk that i couldn’t get enough of.

I wondered what his story was.

To be continued….