Writing Prompt
Writings
Writings
STORY STARTER
Submitted by The Author
'When nightmares are all you’ve ever known, dreams can be a truly frightful thing.'
Write a story or poem inspired by this phrase.
Writings
There was a point in time When genuine kindness was startling to me. Unusual behavior. Especially to receive from friends. I think that at some point in my head, I must have changed the definition of that word, Of friends.
And I was scared all the time. More than I needed to be. Because it was over. I just didn’t know that. How was I supposed to know that? I changed the meaning of friend. If these were my friends, It meant that they would hurt me. That was the new definition, The one she carved into my knee. She blamed it on her ocd. Undiagnosed, actually.
And I wasn’t scared of what was on the other side Because I didn’t know what it could be, I was scared that it was more of the same, That the nightmare was the dream. That this was it for me. Once you’ve left the devil you know, Nothing might change with the devil you don’t.
Lani stepped back, red scars on her face. "Please stop! Please!" The scratching never stopped. Never ceased. The talons scraped her eyes, turning everything black. All that existed was pain.
She gasped awake, tears in her eyes.
The sun poked out from the horizen, and Lani stepped outside to the balcony. She stared out, trying to forget the dream. The shadows seemed to press in on her, clouding her eyesight, leaving a hideous, evil face.
She stepped back and gasped. The darkness still seemed to press in on her. She could never escape. She stepped, side to side, trying to escape the shadows. They pushed her, prodded her, kept her paralized with fear. She stepped backwards.
And started falling. The city lights passed before her, soon covered up by the darkness. It had caught up to her.
As she opened her eyes, she found herself in a hospital bed. Lani looked around carefully, searching for shadows. She soon realized that her mother had her arms around her.
"It'll be alright, Lani"
Lani smiled, tears in her eyes as she looked up to her mothers face.
Then her blood ran cold. Her mothers face was dark, hideous, and cruelly smiling.
She touched her eyes, and felt scars underneath them.
The thing she once called mother pulled out a knife and slashed her in the eyes.
Word count: 224
Hi! My first horror short story! I'll definently write some more soon. It won't be connected to this story, but I have an idea for a second part. Byee~
When darkness is all you’ve ever seen, light can be overwhelmingly bright. When sorrow is all you’ve ever felt, joy can cause unbearable pain. When loneliness is all you’ve ever encountered, friendship can be suffocatingly empty. When nightmares are all you’ve ever known, dreams can be a truly frightful things. When hurt is all you’ve ever experienced, healing can be a life long journey.
my life it’s always been agitating and a never ending cycle . I push to say anything. I always feel rushed. My life has always been a nightmare. I can’t think of anything else that makes me happy,the way my father treats me the way my mother, abandoned me. It sucks, I can’t wait to see my grandma she’s my only hope my grandpa died last year to and I can’t wait to help my grandma be able to get through the sick place. Stress overwhelms me like a cloud of rain covering my city my life it’s really not how I hoped I dropped out of high school two years ago. Still living with my father has a 20 year old. I dropped out my senior year. I was bullied too much that I couldn’t really figure out how I could push myself. My head is basically a suicide thought every second I see my father I feel like I need to barf every time I think of my mother, I want to murder myself every night I hear my father fighting with my stepmom., about how I’m useless. how I look so much like my mother that I remind him of what a terrible person she was, that I was a disappointment I just can’t think of why he would do that to me I’m his daughter he want to call me his perfect. He’s only one who ever love I changed.
I read an article, About emotional abuse in friendships and it reminded me a lot of you. I showed it to my mother and she said The resemblance was scary.
For a second I thought about unblocking your number Just to send it to you, Caption it “It made me think of you” And then block your number before I could get a response. But I didn’t send it, Cause I won’t cause a scene. And while moving on is hard, This won’t help me.
I’ve wanted revenge. Never had the guts to go and get it. Knowing you, Made me hate having a conscience.
So forgive me, If I’m still standing at the grave, Because I buried you, But you were clawing the whole way.
So forgive me, If I’ve lost the heart for second chances. Firguve me if I’m finally ridding my garden of the weeds.
And my bloom is not quite perfect But think about next summer. I wonder, If I will be healed.
“I need a savior?” Well no one can save you. You’re in the darkness now, so no one can hear you. Scream if you like. Then see what will come through See what will reach out Poke it’s face and surprise you.
So mole over this mystery. Hope that it hunts you. Let it make you sweat. As I choke on you viciously And feast on your flesh.
But if you want to get rid of me Better point to the next. Cause fresh meat is best to eat Tender textures of those in distress. Let blood spill And be free from regret.
Be free from filling upset. Let the sunset on those weighing on you The ones pressing onto your chest. The ones that have you wearing extra clothing A vest to protect This tender spot from hurting.
Get angry or get berried. Kindness can be weakness You must eat then be kind Its a sin for the weak to be kind. So scream and find the light Be free of me Or join a pile of bones Pick my teeth with what remains
Peace is a rarity A phenomenal tranquility
I wish this were just a poem But I’m afraid it’s reality
World is spiraling It’s a monopoly
Sometimes I wonder How I breath while suffocating
It’s gotten worse Yeah I can tell ‘cause it hurts To write another poem From my bed-like hearse I wish I could get over it Gosh I’m an idiot I wish I’d pick a side Dead, or living like a piece of shit I wish I could dream But I might slip into it And never come back ‘Cause dying feels intuitive I thought I was fine Yeah, I can be quite foolish Didn’t eat for three days Fell in love with masochism Was gonna write a poem But this is just a rant I’ll come back again When I cross my demons’ path
Amelie is used to nightmares.
They range from being unrealistically scary like an unknown monster chasing her to being realistically scary like losing all her friends.
When she was younger, her nightmares terrorized her. She would wake up in a start and then crawl into bed with her parents. They would tell her that they don’t mean anything. They are just nightmares.
But they were wrong. Nightmares expose the deepest thoughts and fears that she tries to bury in the farthest crevices of her mind.
They used to make her dread going to bed. She would try anything to stay awake. She’d read. Make up stories in her head. But somehow she would always end up asleep.
As she grew up, it became normal. The nightmares. In a world of soulmates and powers, sometimes her unconscious mind came up with fun new ways to torture her. She would have visions of people rejecting her for being soulmateless. People leaving her. All that jazz.
But the fear was familiar, so she didn’t mind them as much.
When she goes to sleep, she thinks it’s just any other night. Nothing is different. Her day was normal. She had friends now. She’s beginning to come to a place with not having a soulmate or powers. School is fine now.
That should have been her first clue. Never get comfortable.
Instead of the normal types of night terrors she has, she is in a field. No dark filter over her eyes. It is as bright as a children’s cartoon.
It’s strange. Everything feels so real. The grass beneath her feet is so soft. It’s like a carpet. It’s one of those lawns that you don’t feel bad laying down on because you know you won’t get dirty.
The breeze on her cheeks is nice and cooling. She can hear the rustle of the leaves.
It’s bright, but yet no blinding sunrays. A clear, deep blue sky.
Is this a dream?
“Hi!”
Amelie startles so badly that she falls on her face. Good thing the grass is a soft cushion.
“Hi?” Amelie responds, her voice a bit muffled from the ground. Pulling herself to a sitting position, the figure sits down across from her.
The figure is dazzling. Soft grey eyes. Pink and red highlights in brown, wavy hair. A spattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks.
Despite the cheery hair, she is wearing a black t-shirt and dark grey jean skirt with stockings visible between the skirt and her black combat boots.
“Am I dead?” Amelie asks outloud. It’s the only explanation that makes sense. She doesn’t dream. She only nightmares.
“No silly. It’s just a dream,” Freckle Girl corrects, plucking a beautiful rose from the ground. She twirls it between her fingertips while humming. Like she doesn’t have a care in the world.
Maybe this is the world trying to tell her something.
“Well that doesn’t explain why you’re here.”
Freckle Girl doesn’t respond which annoys Amelie a bit. But is that her fault since this is her dream?
How does this even work? Her brain just came up with this girl for what? Companionship? She has friends now! Maybe she would believe that her mind would make up this unique person if she had been lonely, but she’s not anymore.
“Dreams mean something. They always do. Maybe your unconscious is trying to give you a message,” Freckles advises.
“Ok, Freckles. If my mind is trying to say something, why wouldn’t it just give me a more direct message. One easier to read?” She asks what she assumes is a figment of her imagination. Maybe this is like an imaginary friend.
The nickname gives the girl a laugh. “Freckles? I like that. My most defining feature, obviously.” She gestures to the hair and her outfit, but does not comment further about that part.
“Dreams cannot be direct. That’s not how they work.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know. It’s just not.”
This is going nowhere.
As Amelie opens her mouth to inquire something else, the once peaceful world shakes. It quakes violently.
“What’s happening?” She shouts, falling onto her stomach, grasping the grass to anchor herself.
Freckles looks completely calm. Not fazed at all. She is still sitting cross legged, no a pink hair out of place.
“You’re waking up.”
With those words and one last glance, Amelie jolts up. Her chest heaves up and down, labored.
Her eyes shift throughout her room to calm herself down. Ok, one desk, two chairs, five pencils, six notebooks, and seven unread books.
She repeats this until her breathing becomes even.
What the heck was that dream?
OoOoO
“It was the weirdest thing, Bell!” Amelie detailed her dream in full, hoping her friends might have some insight or advice.
“Dreams don’t always make sense. I don’t think that is abnormal,” Bell tries to comfort.
“Yeah, like this one time I dreamt of Ajax swimming with me and Herbert, one of my turtles. He hates swimming. Well like many cats, he just doesn’t like getting wet,” Lou adds. She strokes the head of her little lizard that always comes to school with her, Greg.
“But I never dream,” she holds firm.
“Maybe one of the boys will have a better idea,” Bell offers.
“Better idea of what?” Roman and Cross pops up behind them.
Amelie sighs and begins to describe her situation, “I had a weird dream last night and I’m trying to figure out why. Or what it means.”
As the boys look thoughtful, she realizes that someone is missing. Evidently, she isn’t the only one. “Where’s Jeremiah?” Lou questions.
“He’ll be here soon. Wants us to meet someone,” Roman answers.
Just as one of them is about to ask about who, the grass outside the school becomes much greener and healthier, indicating Jeremiah is near.
“Hello, my people! I want you guys to meet my cousin!” Jeremiah practically shouts. His smile is stretched so much, she worries for his chapped lips. Everything about him is shining.
“Ria, these are my friends!” Amelie didn’t see his cousin until he stepped to the side, and then she sees her.
Oh my freaking god.
If she didn’t have the pink and red highlights, she wouldn’t have even recognized her. In the awake world, Freckles is wearing jeans with a pink flowery shirt and white wedges. Much different from the emo look from last night.
As Jeremiah is making introductions, Amelie can’t tell if Freck—Ria recognizes her. There’s no way that it’s a coincidence. Even the thought makes her feel silly. That must be her power or something.
Pulling Bell’s arm until they are a few feet from their friends, she whispers, “It’s the girl from my dreams.”
Roman inserts himself, having seen them break from the group. “Wow. Girl of your dreams? I didn’t know you fell so fast, Amelie,” he teases.
She swats his shoulder in annoyance. “I said ‘from my dreams’, not ‘of my dreams,’” she corrects sharply.
“How is that even possible?” Bell breathes in disbelief, staring at Ria.
“It’s her power,” Roman reveals. When they just eye him with confusion, he goes on to explain further, “She can manipulate people’s dreams, but she tends to not have much control over that when she herself is asleep.”
Great, so this new girl just worked her way into her dreams.
“Guys! I want to you to meet Ria officially,” Jeremiah beckons them back over.
Amelie hesitantly follows Roman and Bell.
“Ria, this is Bell who has been friends with Roman for a long time. And this is Amelie. One of my newer but great friends.”
She lifts her head up and makes eye contact with her for the first time. Or at least first time in person. There are those stormy grey eyes.
“Hi Amelie. Nice to meet you again.” Ria gives her a genuine grin.
“Nice to formally meet you too, Freckles.” She doesn’t know where the nervousness went. While she was taken aback at the acknowledgment of the dream meeting, she managed to banter back with the nickname.
“You two met?” Jeremiah’s eyes get comically big like a cartoon character. He never looked more like a cute, confused puppy than he does now.
Amelie says, “Sort of,” at the same time Ria answers, “last night.”
He doesn’t push for answers, which Amelie is glad of. She doesn’t need to explain it again to someone. It barely makes sense to even her. “That’s cool! I’m just so happy that all my favorite people are in one place now!” Jeremiah exclaims. His pure joy is infectious, and she can’t help but feel her lips curve upwards in response.
His face scrunches up and then he corrects himself almost frantically, “Except for Este, don’t tell her that I just said that.”
“You’re secret is safe with us,” Ria assures him. “I’ll just file it away for future use, in case you do something to tick me off.”
Jeremiah’s face lights up even more, apparently not put off by the blackmailing.
“Like I could do anything to tick you off.”
“That’s true. There are much worse people out there, and you, my dear cousin, are certainly not one of them.”
As they all talk and joke, Amelie observes the whole group. When she can, she likes to mentally take a step back and just bask in this feeling. The feeling of belonging.
She meets Ria’s eyes, and in a look that feels like they are the only ones privy to, she smirks, eyes intense.
Amelie feels her cheeks grow warm, but she doesn’t look away. She knows that she isn’t that experienced in the friend department, but she has this gut feeling about Freckles.
She just doesn’t know what that feeling is telling her. Yet.
Nightmares full of shadows and serial killers Fear and Danger terrorize me Yet they are familiar Become my friends I come to expect them when I close my eyes
Dreams Full of hope and lost people so fleeting, too short Hurt way more I’d much rather have nightmares I miss my friends Fear and Danger I’ve come to know them
Sometimes the familiar is the biggest comfort even if it isn’t ideal or positive or happy But it’s familiar
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