On Recollecting The Dream To My Brother

I could hear the trumpets, the streets full of wails.
We were running, me, you and mum. I don’t know where to,
But my dream switched –
From our panicked escape to the quiet town hall.
We hid behind alabaster pillars.
That’s when I saw them.

My eyes zoomed,
Like a camera,
Out through the windows of the hall.
Way out into the distance. And they stood there – by a mountain I think.
They looked like bears –
Like the Wombles?
It’s weird I know. But it terrified me.
They stood. Looking right at me. And they pointed.

Then it cut. We were thumping on Grandad’s empty house.
And he opened it. He did – I wanted to cry. I tried to hug him.
But he just stood there.
He didn’t say anything. Just turned –
And started towards the basement. We followed.
Then dogs – black dogs started chasing you and me.
We tried to open these endless doors where grandad just stood behind them –

I don’t remember what happened after that.
I just know I was ready to die.
Then it cut.
To that mountain. And those bears.
And a red bus. Full of alabaster skeletons.



Aqsa Shaheen Ahmed is a third year English student at King’s College, London

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I RISE Magazine is an online platform dedicated to showcasing the stories, talents and trials of women of colour and non-binary people of colour in educational institutions. Our aim is to collectively represent, lead the way and inspire ourselves and future generations.

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