The Lantern

There I was. At home. In bed. In my snuggly bed. My snuggly, warm bed. But then I got out. But I didn’t. I was asleep, but I wasn’t. I Tori, or formally known as Torrance, Torrance Backsta, 15 years old, was awake, but not. I know, I know, ‘You can’t be awake And asleep, you creep’, atleast thats what I got told at school when it first started happening. I would dream, no it wasn’t a dream, it was a nightmare?

I was up a tree, no a tree that was cut down just under 300 years ago, a tree everyone ‘knows’ doesn’t exist. A tree with keys? Where am I? I would always ask, then scream apparently, and wake up in the middle of the park, where the tree used to be. This would happen every Tuesday, until Friday the 13th of May. 2016. Friday the 13th. I know that it wasn’t a Tuesday but that was the night, that night was different. I couldn’t go back. No matter how hard I would try.

So some history about this non-existent tree. It got cut down in 1831, the year of the murder. Murder of a girl by the name of Florence Baxter. And the tree, the tree i was in was her tree. In her backyard. Her backyard that after became a park. “If I die, the tree comes with me” She would say. But just after she died everyone, EVERYONE, started hanging keys on the tree. Goodness knows why. She must of had an obsession with keys or something. But my parents. My parents never told me one thing. One thing. That Florence Baxter’s, name was actually Florence Backsta. My Great Great Great Grandma Tori's, SISTER.

My dream. Or should I say reality type of nightmare. I went to sleep. To sleep, but didn’t wake up. No more torment at school about me being a creep. No more waking up in the park. No more nightmares? So in this dream, or nightmare, I am in a tree, and this lady, she wouldn’t be past the age of 25, comes upto me, and stands there, well more like sit, on the branch next to me. Now this lady isn’t the most attractive of them all, she needs to be introduced to makeup, jeez, but anyway next to me was the lantern, and I look at her, then the lantern, and then I look at her, then the lantern, and then I look at her, then the lantern, and then I look at her, then the lantern. This lady she doesn’t like me in the tree. This lady doesn’t like me. She doesn’t like the keys.