my heart is a monster

"We have to fix up the experiment," Matt said.

We'd just set it up. A feeling of dread came over me. I didn't want to go back out again. It didn't seem right. I didn't say anything and got back in the car. There were no other cars on the road, the white painted lines clearly visible against its dark surface. The road curved between tall eucalypts. Their trunks were silver and stark, their canopies thick, obscuring the mountains behind them. Tree ferns snuggled beneath the gums. At a familiar corner I looked to the right and caught a glimpse of the creek.

"This is where we set up, right?" I said anxiously, recognising the location but not remembering. I swore there was a sand bar before.

"Hmm... yes, I can see the tanks through the trees," called my ex-supervisor from the back seat.

She was right. Glimpses of the white tanks could be seen through the trees. The trees gave way to sand and Matt stopped the car. Another ute was already parked nearby and my colleagues were pulling things from the back. We grabbed some stuff and began to walk over the sand.

A cold hand gripped my heart. This felt wrong. I tried to ignore the feelings and followed my colleagues across the sand. It was difficult to walk at first, and then it got easier. I glanced down to see why and felt sick. The sand was compacted, and I saw we were walking on a burial ground. Burial grounds were cursed. We were walking on one. We were cursed. I began praying out loud.

"In Jesus name I break this curse. In Jesus name I break this curse."

I was scared, unsettled and the feelings wouldn't leave, but I saw that my colleagues weren't paying attention and continued walking, so I hurried up to them. We began setting up the white tanks. I went into a white weatherboard house to fix up some broken pieces. All of the furniture in the house was white or covered in white cloth. Other colleagues were also doing things.

It was comforting to know I wasn't in the house alone. I went into a bedroom and sat on the floor. There was a puzzle of a tiger on a green background, incomplete. To finish it I needed to make white puzzle pieces out of clay. I began forming them in my hands and fell asleep. I woke up. The door was closed. There were strange noises in the ceiling above me. It was probably just possums. I was all alone. I was terrified. I jumped to my feet and struggled to open the door.

"Someone help me! Please!" I cried. The door opened and I ran outside onto the wide verandah.

Scared but feeling silly, I leaned on the railing and stared across the white beach at the cerulean water of the sea. People were wading in the calm water, mending pieces of the experiment. I climbed down the stairs.

"People can't work on the other side. It's too rough," a boy informed me.

I turned to look at him. He was strangely beautiful, with golden white hair and icy blue eyes. I then glanced behind the house. The house was on a sandy bar. On either side was the sea. The house was facing the calm sea. Behind the house the waves were huge and the water choppy. Occasionally a large wave would wash right over the sandy bar. It was overwhelming.

A wave began to grow, and as it did fear grew in my heart. The boy and I looked at each other, then we quickly clambered back up the stairs. The house had become a black van on tall stilts. We grabbed onto the railing of the verandah and prepared for the worst. Looking up, we could see the massive black wave building up behind the house. The crest began to break into white foam. It was towering over us. Surely we would die. The house began to shake and, holding my breath, I held tightly onto the rail.

Surprisingly, the wave passed underneath the house. I watched its dark water flow through gaps in the floorboards. Everyone on the beach would have been killed. The boy smiled at me reassuringly. Shaken, I went into the house. There were books everywhere. I needed to finish making puzzle pieces, but the light was really dim. I began to set up lamps around the desk.

"Will there still be enough light for me to see?" my sister asked.

She was perched on a stool nearby. I nodded, then sat down. My Mum's little black dog, Jedda, ran into the room and I patted her. It felt good to touch her. She was soft and warm. I missed her, and her little dark presence was the most comforting thing. It was like a little flame had been lit in the cold darkness.

You might be confused by all this. You're not the only one. This was the dream I had last night. It seems ridiculous now while I try to write it, but at the time it was so vivid, so brightly coloured, so real, so scary. The overwhelming fear I felt throughout it was real. It was like there was something constantly dark in it, and I couldn't feel safe. I often have weird dreams, and bad dreams, but they're rarely this vivid. And I could actually feel my Mum's dog. This is pretty amazing. She has been dead for 9 years. I miss her. I feel like crying.

Today was Zac's birthday. Maybe that's why it's getting to me. I miss my Zac. I don't know why I'm writing this. I don't care.