The NightMare
I am standing outside a small white-washed bungalow. My bare feet sunken into thick freshly mowed grass. My eyes staring as I feel my heart beat wildly. It already knows...
Darkness surrounds me. Terror awaits me.
Suddenly, I’m gliding down a hallway. Pink ribbons stream from the waist of my crisp white cotton dress. When I step into the doorway of a bedroom I illogically find myself behind the wheel of a small white car. I’m driving down a deserted country road where I see a figure ahead — just standing in the middle of the road staring back at me. I move my foot to stomp on the brake, but there are no pedals on the floor. Panic engulfs me as the car speeds up by its own ghostly control and the figure ahead looms ever closer. I squint my eyes as I peer through the windshield at the blurry small figure beckoning me with a blood smeared hand. Suddenly, fat raindrops the size of silver dollars splatter on the windshield…eliciting a sharp scream from me. Shaken, I lean over the steering wheel as my right index finger finds and pushes the windshield wiper lever up another notch. I stare in horror as the raindrops turn into blood —— drenching the windshield red in front of me.
I wake up screaming, my blue flowered cotton pajamas soaked with my own sweat. My eyes are wide open. What did I just dream? My brain searches for answers. I prompt myself up, pull my pillow up under my head and gaze foggily about the room. Morning light fills the room. No blood, no monsters I can see. I shake my head to rid myself of the lingering fogginess. I’ve got to get up. Thoughts of coffee and danish pastry spur me to shower and dress. I’ve got to pull myself together.
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