The Property of a Dream

Snow flew everywhere as the pair of boots tore up the poorly lit street. Voices came from everywhere, shouts and commands to search every possible avenue where an escape could have been made. The blonde haired boy ducked down between two trash cans, hugging the wall as tightly as possible. The sound of the boots drew nearer. He held his breath as the black leather stopped right in front of his place of hiding. Seconds felt like hours as he waited, praying silently in his head that they would just continue on to search another area in vain. Finally, after what seemed like hours, a scream came from far away for everyone to fall back. Slowly, the shoes retreated into the darkness. The boy let out a sigh of relief. Without warning a hand flew over his mouth and began to choke him.

Screaming for air, the young man dropped the package he was holding and fought against his unknown attacker with every ounce of strength he had left. His strength was no match for the scarred arm pulling him into the darker part of the alley. Finally, he bit down and tasted blood. A moments respite was all that was needed for him to turn around and face the assailant. He let out a gasp as he looked around; he was alone in the alley. The small body began to shake uncontrollably. Without looking back he dashed to the package and tore out of the nightmare and into the open street. Not even bothering to stop to look for more armed men, the boy quickly faded into the snowy streets.

Dark had fully set in by the time the door to the small shack opened. In limped the tired body of the boy, clothes torn and bloody. Not even bothering to take of his shoes he mustered the last strength he had and threw himself on the tattered couch. The package rolled out of his arms and came to rest by his head. Unknown contents were of no use to the sleeping child. He was finally safe in the comfort of his own home. The wind blew heavily outside, buffeting the small hovel with even more snow. Lights flickered in the streets as the ragged footprints began to blend back in with the ground.

Light shone through the broken window when the boy finally awoke. He slowly arose to his feet and looked around the room. Everything was just how it had been left. Despite the chaotic mess, the boy seemed satisfied that nothing was out of place. The package lay on the ground forgotten as boxes were torn through, yielding little food. Finally, the boy came back and stared at the small neatly wrapped object lying out of place on the floor. Although its contents were unknown to him, the realization that he had taken an object of extreme value suddenly stuck. Silently, he bent over it, examining the brown paper tightly held in place by thin strands of string. Minutes passed as he knelt there staring, wondering what could be inside. His fingers shook as they began to delicately untie each string with care. The paper fell loosely to the ground. A look of shock came over his face when suddenly there was a knock at the door.

Throwing the object hurriedly under the tattered couch cushions, the boy rose to his feet and stared at the door. The knock came again, heavier and angrier. Slowly, the boy moved toward the door. With his hand on the knob, the knock came again, this time pounding the frame of the door, shaking the very house itself. The handle turned slowly and the door began to swing open. With a great crash, the door was kicked off his hinges, knocking the boy to the ground in fear. In the open space stood a large man, his face masked only by the amount of scars he wore. In one hand he held a duffle bag; the other he extended out to the boy on the floor, waiting for him to take hold. Frozen with fear, the child could do nothing but lay there, shaking with his mouth unable to close. The man set down the bag and advanced on the boy. Scrambling back toward the wall, there was nothing he could do as two strong arms lifted him up and onto his feet. Inches away from his face, the man looked at the boy and calmly asked him, "What is your name?"

Confused, the boy stuttered and stammered but was unable to reply. He felt the two large hands gently brush the dirt off of him as the man asked again. "What is your name?" The boy's voice squeaked out in terror as the words tumbled hurriedly out of his mouth. "My name is Jason. Who are you? What do you want with me?" A smile came across the scared face as the man slowly lifted his arm. With blood crusted around the torn edges, Jason's eyes opened with fear once more as he saw his teeth marks through the bitten sleeve. Without responding, the man lowered his arm and began to walk over to the couch. The small boy's feet rooted to the ground, unable to move as the scarred hands slowly lifted the cushion. The man's blue eyes seemed to pierce inside of him as he stood there, holding the package gently in his arms. He smiled once again and crossed the room back to the door. Dumbfounded, Jason watched man stepped outside.

It took Jason a few minutes to recover from what had just happened. Suddenly, he looked to the floor and saw the briefcase. He flew out of the house and looked down the empty street. The man was nowhere to be found. Stepping over the broken door, he looked at the briefcase. Slowly, he bent over and picked it up. It felt light and seemingly empty. He set the case on its side and began to examine the case. No clasps held the top to the bottom; it all seemed like one piece. Carefully, he turned it over. The other side looked exactly the same. Not knowing where to begin to try to open it, he lifted the leather handle up. Without warning, the sides opened and the handle fell off. Jason jumped back with the handle still in his hand. On the inside lay a single sheet of paper folded into a small square. With hands still trembling from the scare, he opened it up and began to read.

The sound of bells chimed out the hour as the familiar alley came into sight. Cautiously walking up to the entrance, Jason looked around to make sure that he wasn't falling to some sort of trap. He began to walk forward, searching the walls for his former hiding place. Suddenly, the wall opened up and out walked the man. Jason found himself again on the ground in shock, staring at the wall that had just opened. Before the man could offer him a hand, Jason flew to his feet. The man smiled as he turned around. As he walked back through the door he called back to the scared boy "Fear lead to my door first. Now curiosity brings you back. Will courage allow you to enter it?" Before he could even think, Jason's feet began advancing toward the door. As he stepped over the crushed trash cans, warm air came from the space within. He stood before the open wall and stared into the darkness. Finally, he lifted one foot and crossed the threshold. The wall slid back into place behind him as the wind began to pick up, brushing away the footprints into the newly fallen snow.