Beyond Scribbles

She woke up startled, her breath quick and shallow, beads of sweat trickling down her forehead, cool against her heated skin. The room was still, yet the weight of the dream lingered in the air. She pressed her palms to her temples, grounding herself, as if the touch alone could chase away the shadows lurking in her mind.

No matter how many times she prayed, the nightmare came back—always the same, always inescapable. The clink of chains, the cold iron bar against her skin, her steps restricted to the same cruel five. In her dream, she was trapped again, suffocated by the dark, helpless as it swallowed her whole.

It’s just a dream. It’s not my reality. Not anymore. She whispered the words to herself like a mantra, hoping repetition would strip the nightmare of its power.

Two long months. That’s how long she had been chained to the basement floor, her body bound to an iron bar, and her mind tethered to fear. But she had survived. She endured every second of those hellish days—and escaped. She hadn’t fought her way out just to be held captive now by invisible chains.

I refuse to be shackled by the trauma of a nightmare. The dream can’t control my days anymore. I reject it. I reject these dreams.

Her voice wavered at first, but she said the words again, louder this time, as if daring the nightmare to return. She was ready to fight it, just as she had fought off her abductor—relentlessly, no matter how long it took.

The chains she had broken once wouldn’t hold her again. She gave herself no choice but to stay free—from the shackles then, and the nightmares now.

© Vinitha Dileep

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This piece is written in response to the two hundredth and twenty-third edition of Fiction Monday inspired by the word prompt – REJECT hosted by yours truly. Do join in if you have a tale to tell.

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