Requiem for the Forgotten

Requiem for the Forgotten

Sarah awoke from her nightmare, terrified. It had been happening every night for as long as she could remember. Each evening, as her eyes closed and she drifted off to sleep, she would awaken in a world of demons. The place was bleak and full of strange, dark creatures. Every night, she found herself forced to do terrible things there—scaring people half to death, stealing from strangers, and performing other horrible acts she would never even consider in her waking life.

The first day in the demon realm, she was shown around by a shadowy figure. He explained the tasks she would be required to perform. Sarah, frightened and confused, was about to refuse when, abruptly, the world turned all black and everyone disappeared. She was suspended in darkness. Out of the emptiness, she heard someone say, “Wake up.” The words floated before her vision, glowing white against the black. “Wake up,” the voice repeated, louder, more urgent, and then a final time, it roared, making a bone-rattling noise that shook Sarah's whole body. She shot upright in bed, gasping for air and on the verge of tears. She had no idea who the voice belonged to, but she didn’t have time to figure it out. The alarm clock shrieked, reminding her she had to get ready for school.

That entire day, she couldn't shake the feeling of dread that clung to her like smoke. After school, she tried to distract herself with homework, texts from friends, and dinner with her mother, but the sense of unease never left her.

That night, Sarah was afraid to fall asleep, but eventually exhaustion claimed her. Again, she found herself back in the demon realm. This time, a demon instructed her to scare the people in the town below. The demon pointed past the edge of a shaky rope bridge, obviously about to collapse, suspended over dark, swirling waters. As Sarah trembled across the bridge, she saw a massive creature stirring in the water below, pale eyes glinting. "It's hungry," the demon hissed.

Suddenly, the bridge began to sway from side to side. The creature below lunged upward. Sarah felt herself lifted off the bridge, hovering higher and higher until everything was darkness once again. “Wake up!” the voice shouted, three times in rapid succession, each echo louder than the last. It roared, and Sarah jerked awake. The familiar feeling—the sensation of drowning until she woke up—lingered.

Sarah tried to talk to her mom over breakfast, but the words caught in her throat. At school, a memory returned to her. About a week ago, her friend Bella sensed strange, negative energy from a large, old tree on the edge of the school playground. Bella had backed away from it, visibly frightened. Sarah and her other friend, Sally, had understood there was something odd about the tree, but curiosity got the better of them, and they went over anyway. As they examined the thick trunk, Sarah remembered a sudden headache and a sense of something wrapping coldly around her body. Sally, too, seemed affected—her leg ached, and she shuddered, whispering she felt a bad energy. Then, carved into the bark, they found weird, natural markings of animals—some real, some clearly fantasy creatures.

The incident had creeped them out, and as soon as they finished telling Bella, she had to go home. Sarah and Sally decided to touch the spots on the tree where the force felt strongest, convinced that if they exposed themselves to it, they would become immune. Laughing a little, trying to act brave, they ran toward the tree. But as they stopped and caught their breaths, it dawned on them—during their initial visit, they had handled the strange feeling better than Bella. Maybe that odd energy was what had triggered Sarah’s nightmares.

That night, lying in bed, Sarah tried to steel herself. When the dream began again and the voice yelled “Wake up!” she tried to scream, tried to call for her mother, but she couldn't speak. Terror gripped her. The roar echoed, louder and harsher, and she woke up gasping. It dawned on her: maybe the monster trying to wake her up was actually helping her. Maybe it wanted her out of the demon world before something terrible happened.

By Friday night, exhausted and desperate for answers, Sarah came up with a plan. It was the weekend—no school, so no need to wake up early. If she fell asleep now, maybe she would make progress. Maybe she could confront the voice or the demons.

She drifted off. As she expected, she found herself in the demon realm again, but this time, she refused to wait for orders. She remembered the roar she'd heard on her initial tour of the nightmare world. Determined, she went in search of the source. Eventually, she came upon a different demon. This one looked less menacing, more frightened. “No, no, no! You shouldn’t be here,” the demon stammered. “What don’t you understand? I’m trying to help you! If you stay, you’ll be killed, then sacrificed!” The demon roared in warning, and with a jolt, Sarah awoke in her own bed, her skin cold with sweat.

Something had changed—the fear was less now, replaced with determination. At breakfast, she decided to talk to someone with experience in mysterious things, someone who wouldn’t laugh her off. Sarah sought out Ms. Peters, the school counselor, and asked about strange dreams. Ms. Peters listened kindly but suggested Sarah speak with a psychological expert.

Later that day, Sarah had a video call with Dr. Thompson, an expert in dreams and trauma. Sarah described her experiences, even mimicking the roar she’d heard. But Dr. Thompson didn’t take her seriously, insisting she was wasting time on childish stories. As Sarah protested, a notification popped up on the screen—the call had ended. Sarah felt her throat close; she couldn't speak. She tried screaming, shouting for her mother, but no sound would come. All she could do was watch the notification for a while.

In the silent dark, Sarah thought back. There was something she’d said that day, something feared had betrayed her, unlocking this nightmare world from which she might never awake.