nightmare

Sunday 31st May 2009
My sister sat playing on an old Nintendo console on a game which looked very similar to Mario. The colours weren't very vibrant but I watched the fighting combos intently; a low punch, a flying kick, a punch. The small instect/robot-like enemies exploded due to the impact.

Kind of reminds me of that episode of Criminal Intent... I had thought to myself.

My glance then drifted onto the console itself, which strangely, had a cartridge inside shaped like a green watering can, while also noticing that it clearly wasn't my bedroom, or even a room in our house for that matter. The room was huge with three white painted walls while the fourth was in fact a huge window with two glass doors in the middle which lead out into a grassy garden. Two beds were also in the room - one at each side. My sister was sat on the floor in front of the TV; apart from the beds and the TV the room was empty.

I threw myself down onto the bed at the right of the room and fell asleep, a nightmare following shortly after.

It was dark outside- either early morning or late evening - and the soft yellow light from a street lamp was the only thing breaking the thick darkness created by the bare trees which were trailed down a long, steeply inclinded path. There was a wall opposite to the trail of trees and even long branches stetched out of each snicket. I stood very close to this wall as if waiting or just watching.

A man wearing what appeared to be an illuminous green or yellow vest (like the type that are worn during marathons) was jogging down the street with quick pace. Dead leaves crunching softly beneath his feet.

Rustle

His head snapped up from the ground and he listened intently, but continued jogging, his pace slowing.

Rustle

He stopped, head turning to look at a branch which protruded from the wall

Snap

The twigs and loose branches strewn across the floor fell victim to the relentless dash of a clown donning yellow and white baggy clothing and a red wig. He produced a knife and embedded it into the helpless jogger's head.

He screamed in agony before falling limply to the ground.

Unmoving, I inspected the clown who stood staring at his lifeless victim. His right arm was shaped like a branch but it was difficult for me to distinguish whether or not he stuck a branch to his arm, or his arm was in fact, a branch.

I suddenly grow more frightened as his gaze falls on me, a melevolent grin tugging at his ashen face.

Hastily, I jumped and performed an impressive backflip right over the wall and dashed swiftly through a forest of bare, winter trees.

I then woke up in the bed from before, and told my sister about the evil clown.

Then I actually woke up feeling really confused...xD

Tuesday 19th May 2009
On a journey back home with my dad, we both sat on the top deck of a roofless double-decker bus. I stood, leaning daringly over the front and almost toppled out as the bus screeched to an abrupt halt on cue with the irritated beeping that arose from a small, speeding TJ Walsh bus as it raced past us near a roundabout.

My courage unwavered, I continued standing and turning to my dad I asked, "So, we're going home now, right?"

"No, we're going swimming." Came the reply.

No! I thought, despairing over the lack of geography revision I had done for the exam. I don't have any time!

As I said this, the bus encircled the roundabout which allowed me to get a good look at the gleaming clock tower. The black hands clearly reading quarter to eight. The face of the clock shone with a brilliant, bold yellow-orange gradient which was brightened by the dark blue evening sky.

Despite this, we returned home and I angrily dashed out into a huge garden with houses opposite with cosy, warm yellow lights eminating from each window. I flopped down onto a wooden bench where my geography work lay and tears creeped from my eyes until the dam completely broke.

I don't have time! I repeatedly chanted like a mantra, as I tried to lift up my work to throw it onto the ground. The unusual weight of it, however, prevented me from doing so; it was simply to heavy.

Later, I found myself in the doorway of a dimly lighted bedroom. I saw a bed with white covers - plastic bags lay bundled together atop it, and there was a mirror that stretched the whole length of the wall opposite to where I was stood. From where I was standing I could see someone dressed in black, sat at the wall opposite the mirror -I could only see enough of the figure to conclude the he or she was sitting on a chair - but this person wasn't reflected in the mirror. I also heard a monotonous drone - the person was talking to me, but I couldn't decipher the words. And as if I couldn't, or wasn't allowed to step in to the room, I instead stood on tip toes to see if I could find a reflection but the bags on the bed seemed to grow and obscure my view with each new height that I reached.

Suddenly, I felt a jolt in my chest and wheezed as pain struck it. I clasped at my chest screaming, "It feels like I'm being ripped apart!"
Invisible hands wrapped roughly around my arm and clutched my top directly where the pain was and started to drag me into the room. I couldn't see them, but I could feel and sense them on me. Screams tore helplessly from my lungs.

Uuugh...I have my geography exam today...: (

Saturday 18th April 2009
Sitting on the right side of the bus towards the middle, I handed my friend a pile of sketches I had done and she leafed through them.

Suddenly, while the bus was moving, a man clothed entirely in black jumped through the doors. He just appeared to be a speeding blur. He rushed up the aisle and back down again. A few people screamed in pain, and fell limply in their seats, blood pouring from their fleshly opened wounds. They'd been slashed with a knife.

Those who were left alive carried on as if nothing had happened, while I sat, desperately wondering to myself if they'd actually noticed what happened. Even the driver continued with the journey with out so much as a second thought; he didn't even stop once.

As the journey continued, panic still present in my mind, the blur of a man jumped in again while the bus was moving and swept up and down the length of the bus. More people slumped in their chairs, blood trickling down their slashed torsos and chests.

My heart rate sped up dramatically.

How could he possibly do that!? I thought to myself, shifting irritably in my seat.

I went on to wondering about if was actually hiding beneath or on top of the bus. I looked foreward, seeing an old lady with grey hair slumped in her chair, utterly lifeless; among the rest of the people who had been killed. My gaze then traveled out of the window. The bus weaved through cars on the busy roads and it was getting dark outside, and I was becoming more frightened with every passing minute.

Soon enough, we had finally arrived in the town centre. I didn't want to wait to get to the bus stop, so when the driver had stopped at a traffic light, I yelled down the bus, "Hey, is it alright if I get off here?"

"Yeah, course you can." Came the cheerful reply, as if he hadn't even realised the killings that had so fleetingly taken place throughout the journey.

I jumped off the bus and onto the pavement, slowly realising I had left my bag on the bus, but the bus had already driven away. I decided that when I got home, I'd find the number for the bus station and ask if my bag had been given in to lost and found.