Prologue
It’s happening. It’s happened before, but it has never been this detailed. This bloody. It always seems scary, even though I have it almost every night, except when I’m having another one. I always get them, I don’t know why. For some reason, this particular one has been following me around for months and months, trying to get me to notice it. I always do, of course, but I act like I don’t. My Mum always used to say; “If you are brave, then stand up to it. Once you can stand up to it, then you can defeat it, and do anything, anything at all.”
A lot of people get them, but none ever have them like I do. Theirs are scary, but mine are terrifying. Realistic. Bloody. If you don’t believe me, then by all means, I’ll tell them to you. But remember…
I WARNED YOU.
IT
I’m falling down a dark pit that won’t stop. Ever. Never ever ever. Then suddenly I hear a cackle. A cackle that makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up and a cackle that was so evil that it sends shivers through my spine and I scream as a hand reaches out. The hand is bony and it’s nails, if you can even call them nails, her talons are curved towards my face and I try to move but I can’t. It’s too late. I shriek as the hand grabs a hold of my arm and starts pulling me into the wall. But the wall isn’t a wall anymore. It has transformed into a chalkboard. There isn’t any writing on it, but there is a single piece of chalk. As I get pulled along, I pick it up and manage to write two words:
HELP ME.
1. Back To Life
You’re lucky. I told it to you, but just because I’m nice, and because there is a chance that you are a young child, I told you one of the really very completely un-scary one. *sigh* You know, now is the time where I think it would be polite to say thank-you. Well, whatever. I guess people don’t say thank you anymore.
No comments:
Post a Comment