Solveig Werner

I knew that I found myself deep inside the catacombs of a dream. How did I know you will ask? Well I woke up in the morning, stressed, running from an unknown evil through these dirty and dangerous streets. You can imagine my relief when my mom said it was time to rise and shine just like the sun. I didn’t stay at school long, a very bad headache made me nauseous and made sure that I return into my dream.

And now, far quicker than I had at first expected I am back entrenched inside this dream. Or maybe I should say: NIGHTMARE.

“Heads will roll today! If we do not find the person or thing who committed treachery. All of your heads will roll!” a deep voice shouted into the night. Looking around the corner of the building, I can tell you that it is the newly crowned king of these lands. But why does he want heads to roll? Does he mean my head as well? He cannot have it! Even if only minutes ago my dear head was in agonising pain, as if someone was trying to rip it apart with their bare hands.

I started to spring towards the castle’s old gates towards the town, hoping that no one would see me, but in pink pyjamas that is a difficult mission.

“There, there!” the king started to shout after me, “that’s the thing, the person, the girl you all have to catch!”

Oh no, so I was the hunted here. Why? My head would not let me think, fear started to slow me down, nail my feet to the ground. The king’s hounds started to snap at my heels as I jumped into the river.

“Honey? Are you awake?” wet and cold I opened my eyes, not as I expected on the river’s bank but in my own bed, my mother looked at me with worry.

“I am mom and I would like to stay awake, my head feels so much better now.” I answered, sitting up a bit too quickly. The pain as if someone was trying to jank my head apart reappeared. Oh how was I hoping to stay away from that dream.

“No!” my mother said firmly, “I have just come to change your wet sheets, we don’t want you to catch pneumonia, and then off to bed and sleep again”.

“But mom, I am fine” I lied, trying to ignore my head calling for rest.

“Normally, you try to stay sick for days, and now you want to get up right away. No Missy, that isn’t going to work with me. You have a fever! You need rest! No screens, no books, no nothing. Just sleep!”

I tried to protest, but my head and my mother would not have it as she was tucking me in again.

Her “Sleep well” were only distant words, as if they came from a different world.

There was a carriage waiting for me. “Get in!” a friendly face barked at me. Without hesitation I jumped, and the horses were already galloping, no flying across the well defined pathways.

“Where am I?” I turned to my saviour.

He shot me a puzzling look. “So now are you a witch or a princess? Or a bit of both?”

I did not understand. So he added: “you were wearing pink trousers and a large shirt earlier, and then climbing out of the water you changed into this skimpy blue dress”.

Embarrassed I looked down at myself. My mother must have changed my clothing, I had concentrated so hard on trying to stay awake, that I had not even realised that she had undressed me, scrubbed me and put on a clean nightgown.

“I am just a simple girl, at the wrong place at the wrong time”.

“No, you are not!” was his abrupt answer.

Puzzled I looked at him.

“The new king has decided he wants to kill you”.

I nodded, that detail had not escaped me. “But why?”

“You do not know?” he asked, and went on, “here everyone knows you, we might know you better than you know yourself.”

He whipped the horses to make them gallop quicker. “He wants to cut your head, in hope for him to be free”.

“But this is a dream” I stammered, nervous.

“Yes, it is. By cutting your head, he hopes to gain access to your world, we would of course all be free, and not longer living in your head”.

I tried to back away from him. “And you, what do you plan to do with me?”

“I,” he chuckled, “I plan to protect you, this world, the world inside your head is sacred and should not disappear, we all risk to disappear with the cutting of your head.”

“Oh” I murmured.

After I while I grew curious again, “So how do I make it out of here alive?”

“Don’t worry to much. You only have a small migraine, your fight against the king will be won, once your head wins against this migraine of yours”.

I gazed out of the window, the green grass and even greener forest and fresh air did me so much good. I sensed a smell of broth, a chicken bouillon? I looked into the eyes of the handsome man who had saved me, they quickly morphed into those of my mother.

“Here you go dear, a bit of bouillon, it will give you back your strength.”

With difficulty I sat up in my bed, but to my present surprise, my head was no longer hurting.

“How is your migraine?”

“The evil king has not got me this time” I answered.

She smiled and turing to the door I heard a quiet “kids and their imagination” escape her mouth.

---

#BlogBattle entry by Solveig Werner
The word for today’s #BlogBattle is “head”, my story has been influenced by memories of horrible migraines and the odd fever dream that I have experienced, as well as a few stories and books that I have read over the years.

---

#BlogBattle is kindly hosted by Rachel Ritchey, she has been doing so for 6, yes six months now! Congratulations! Please head over to her blog, check out the other entries and vote for your favourites in the poll.