Daily Prompt: Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)
What is the best dream you’ve ever had? Recount it for us in all its ethereal glory. If no dream stands out in your memory, recount your worst nightmare. Leave no frightening detail out.
Photographers, artists, poets: show us IMAGINARY.
Nightmares rule in my life since I was a young child. But I really don’t have to think too far back. Remember Stephen King’s story, ‘Carrie’ that was made into a movie? I didn’t read the book, but I saw the movie. Those are the kind of nightmares I seem to be endowed with.
I never think of this kind of stuff nor do I ever read or watch those kind of movies ever since I watched ‘Carrie’ with my teenagers.
I’m not into horror, or scary stuff. I don’t need to be. I just have to go to sleep and many a night there it is. Live and in living colour and seemingly so real, I sometimes think, when I’ve awaken, which world is for real.
One of the most frightening one’s I’ve had. A coffin is involved. A grave. A hand suddenly reaching out of the grave. Then, snatch. It’s got a hold of my legs and I scream. It moans and groans. The air is stifling. My breath. I can hardly breathe. I’m being pulled by skeletal creatures. My name. They call me by name.
“Drew. WE WANT YOU!”
“No, let me go.”
Loosening their grip, I turn away and run until I’m out of breath. They are close behind. I can’t stop. I must keep going. Soon my legs are getting tired. I have to keep running otherwise, they will get me. What will they do to me? Please, God! Don’t let them catch me.
The force is too strong. My strength is removed. I try to run, but my legs no longer can carry my weight. I fall. Get up. Keep tripping until I simply can’t get away. If only my legs could outrun them. My arms flail and soon, they are useless as well. Only my voice can scream out. And no sooner does that thought come, then my voice sounds like a little child without much volume. My legs now numb; my arms, two stubs laying beside me. It’s hopeless!
When I realize I can’t move, and they are attempting to drag me into the grave with them, I try to scream once again. But there isn’t a sound that escapes. Tears begin to flow, and I don’t know what to do. No, no. Please, stop it. Leave me alone. All I have are thoughts.
They are dead creatures from another world. And yet they’re alive. They can move, speak, pull. They cry out in tearless, captivating moans. It sounds like they are suffering; as if flames from hell are licking their already skeletal limbs. Their main goal seems to be to devour me and they will be rewarded if they can take another victim. Me!
Then I awaken, all out of breath, crying and thanking God, it was just a Nightmare.