Today I decided to write out what happened in the dream. It's really rough, but sometimes writing out my dreams helps me get over them faster.
So enjoy, I guess.
Run,
run, run. That's what's flying through my mind as I frantically
search for a way out of my own house. I pull hard on the backdoor
knob and try to unlock it, but with no luck. No tears yet, but I'm
sobbing dry heaves, almost like I'm suffocating. I run across the
kitchen to the door that leads to the garage. I press the button on
the wall and open the garage door, breathing a sigh of relief.
I
stumble down the steps and get to the door when it shuts suddenly,
making me jump back. Back to the panic. “I'm not letting you out
THAT easy,” a deep voice says.
I
look up and run back inside before he turns on the car and really
suffocates me. I yank on the windows on the first floor and try to
unlock them as well. Nothing.
I
run up the stairs to the second floor, to my bedroom, where I lock
the door and push my chair against the knob. I leap over my bed and
try my window. It opens but somehow the jump increases and I'm thirty
stories in the air.
I
sit on the ground behind my bed and lean up against the wall where my
window hung. My hands cover my face but I don't cry. I try to steady
my breathing before the man's voice returns. “What? Have you given
up my little game?” he calls from outside my bedroom. His voice
makes me jump and breathe heavily again.
I've
never seen the nightmare man, but he likes to play games with my
head. He can control every door and window in the house with just the
flick of his finger. He's had me locked up, he's made me grow old in
seconds, he's even killed me. But I've never seen his face.
I
walk over to the door and, as quietly as possible, I remove the chair
and unlock the door. After a few seconds, I burst through and run
past him and down the stairs.
I
throw myself at the front door and jerk on the locks. When that
doesn't work, I grab the stone cat figurine from the living room to
my left and thrust it at the locks.
It
breaks open and I throw myself outside, running up the street. I seem
to be running as fast as my legs can carry me, but I'm not moving any
faster than if I was tiptoeing.
At
the end of my driveway is my family, laying face down. I turn them
over, one by one, when I see that their faces have changed. I gasp
and then the tears come. I realize that the man had tricked me.
These
people were disguised to resemble my parents and sisters. But when I
looked at them now, I saw that they were people I'd never seen
before.
I
turn back to my house and drop to my knees. Now the tears come. My
subconscious just says “open your eyes,” but the man won't let
me. He knows as soon as my eyes open, he will disappear and be stuck
until the next night. He keeps my real eyes sewn shut tight.
I
try as hard as I can. “You're not getting rid of me that easily,”
he yells from inside the house.
Suddenly
I'm sitting up in bed, crying, screaming, and breathing hard. I lay
back down, trembling, as I remember the nightmare man, just as I do
after every bad dream.
I
stay under my covers, shivering with my eyes wide open, scared to
fall back asleep. I look at the clock and see that it reads “7:00
AM.” I breathe a heavy sigh and try to calm down.
The
telephone rings and I jump out of my skin.
They
say sleep is nice because everything just goes away for a little
while, but everything comes back to me when I shut my eyes.
<3 p="">
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