Dreamcatcher--Daily Flash Fiction Entry

Dreamcatcher

Deidra turned the delicate object over in her hands skeptically.  “How does this thing work?” she asked Sean.

“Haven’t you ever seen a dream-catcher before?” he asked. 

Deidra nodded.  “Yeah, but I thought they were just for decoration.  What does it do?”

“The Ojibwe Indians used them to trap bad thoughts before they entered the mind.  They’re supposed to prevent nightmares.  It should help you get some sleep.”

Deidra raised her eyebrows dubiously.  It was true this dream catcher was different from the ones she had seen in New-Age shops.  The hoop was made of wood, not plastic, and the webbing was a reassuring natural brown—no trace of glitter or silver thread.  She fingered a strand.

“Sinew.” Sean said. She looked at him blankly.  “It’s muscle fiber.  Of an animal.”  Deidra made a face and pulled her hand away.

“Well,” she sighed.  “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to try.”

~***~

That evening, Diedra hung the dream catcher from a nail over her bed before she went to sleep.  Though she slept peacefully, her dreams that night were strangely stuttered, like a record that kept starting and stopping over and over again.  She woke abruptly with a pounding headache, like someone had been playing tug-of-war with her brain.

Massaging her temples, Diedra sat up—then, all at once, she recognized the strong smell of smoke and burning hair.

Turning, she saw the dream catcher.  A huge hole rent the webbing, as if someone had taken a fist and punched right through it.  The edges of the hole were singed, still smoking slightly.  The feathers that had hung from the hoop had been reduced to sooty, shriveled sticks.  The ash had fallen, starkly black against her white pillowcase, in a perfect outline of the shape of her head.

297 words