The Backpack

Ft. Visitor, nightmare, keychain

Some memories are best left buried deep, so deep that one can’t have them resurface. But somehow, they always find a way to crawl back, especially during the cold stillness of night. There are a couple of memories— fragments of my past that I’ve tried but failed to forget. It used to haunt me every time I closed my eyes, sneaking into my thoughts like a shadow that won’t go away.

This all started when I was 19. In the beginning, the nightmares occurred once a week. I thought I could just take medication to sleep better and forget about it completely. But over time, they came more frequently, vividly and relentlessly. I began writing them down, hoping that recording them might lessen their hold on me. Instead, my diary became a grim account of horrors; each entry more unsettling than the other. With each nightmare, the line between dream and reality seemed to blur further.

I have two dreams that still bring chills down my spine and even after spending days analyzing them, I still can’t decipher the meaning behind them or how they occurred in the first place.

Here is one of my accounts:

I was at a diner, munching on a burger. The place looked ordinary at first glance. Checkered floors, red and white interior, beer booths, soft cushion chairs and soft retro music being played in the background but something felt off. Unease settled over me, though I couldn’t pinpoint why.

I scanned the room, not a person in my direct line of sight. It was rush hour, so for a diner to be completely vacant of customers was peculiar to say the least. Neither the customers nor the staff was in view. Still scanning, my eyes darting towards the glass wall.

That’s when I saw him.

A man stood pressed against the glass, his face mere inches away from it. His breath fogged up the pane, encircling smoke around his features. He didn’t move, didn’t blink, just stared. His gaze locked onto mine, freezing me on the spot. His eyes were dark, filled with an intensity that made my skin crawl. It was as if he could see right through my soul.

I tried to face away from the man but I wasn’t able to. My gaze shifted from his sunken eyes to his tongue that was sticking out and touching the glass panel, leaving a trail of saliva behind. I was feeling utterly disgusted, yet no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t look away.

My body felt paralyzed, trapped under the weight of his stare. I wanted to scream and ask for help but my mouth felt dry. I could only look at him, desperately wanting to leave. I felt hopeless as there was nothing I could do. The eerie quietness slowly creeping in between us was deafening.

A loud bang shattered the silence, snapping me out of my trance. I jolted awake, my heart pounding like a drum. I sat up in bed, drenched in sweat. My pillow was soaked and I could feel the damp fabric clinging to my skin. I tried to shake it off, convincing myself that it was just a dream and it worked; for a while.

For the next few days, I managed to sleep peacefully but the break didn’t last long. The nightmares returned, this time frightening than before.

This one about to be shared, was the last recorded dream. Shortly after experiencing this, I moved houses and the nightmares stopped. I still wonder if the dreams had something to do with the apartment I lived in or was just a weird coincidence that they ended so abruptly.

Here is the last account:

I was at my house, hosting a party. The room felt alive with music and people chit-chatting. The air buzzed with energy as music thumped from hidden speakers, filling every corner of the house. A swirl of familiar faces were mixed in with strangers. Hoping they were my friend’s acquaintance, I didn’t give it much thought. Clusters of people gathered in animated conversation, their laughter rising above the music in bursts. People danced and drank, their movement blending with the music as they swayed, spun and clapped in sync. I swayed midst the crowd, pretending to join in, trying to enjoy myself, when something—or someone—caught my eye.

In the middle of the chaos stood a lone man. He stood utterly still; the people around him felt like a blur. His vibe was a stark contrast to the moving crowd around him. His face was shrouded in shadow but his smile was unmistakable—wide, menacing and fixed. Though his face was a black void, the corners of his lips stretched further the more I looked at him.

A black backpack hung from his slouched shoulders, its most striking feature being a shiny silver skeleton keychain dangling from a small chain on the side. The keychain swayed slightly, occasionally sparkling as it caught the light.

Even as I kept staring at him, he didn’t waver. His smile grew wider as each second passes by, the gaze still unbroken. It felt like the same dark, bottomless stare I had seen before at the diner.

My chest tightened and panic gushed through me. A sudden rush of adrenaline surged through my body, telling me to make way towards him.

But my legs didn’t obey and felt numb. I tried to move my head, in a hope that the people around me would notice and assist. Nothing was of help. My body felt stiff. I could do nothing except closing my eyes shut, waiting for something to happen, for it to disappear, desperate for it to be over.

When I opened them again, I was back in my room, lying in bed. I was not sweating but my breathing was uneven. I tried to calm myself down and looked across the room. Daylight streamed through the window, casting long shadows across the floor. I turned to my side and picked up my phone. I had two missed alarms and the time read 10 am.

I had missed my first class and if I got up right now, I would make it just in time for the second lecture.

The nightmare lingered in my mind as I stumbled into the living room, still groggy and disoriented. I tried to convince myself that it was just a dream, nothing more. I made my way to the kitchen, lazily making a cup of coffee to start the day. I was leaning by the kitchen island, putting my weight on it, when I saw it.

On the dining table sat an unidentified black backpack. My breath hitched as I froze in place. It was the same backpack from my dream. The skeleton keychain was dangling from its side, identical in every detail. My heart raced as I took a hesitant step closer. It was then that I noticed something else—a dark red stain smeared along the side of the bag. I didn’t recall seeing that in the dream.

I still couldn’t fathom moving, knots were slowly being tied in my stomach. My mind raced with millions of questions, but no answers came in sight. How did it get here? Who brought it? And most chilling of all—why? Was all I had been experiencing just a dream or I had actually experienced it?