Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Monday, June 13, 2011
I wrote this short story based on a nightmare I had. I had overthought the nightmare a lot and my imagination led me to think further about it. What could have happened?
He was at the end of my bed tonight. He had his cold, dead grin on his face again. I didn’t move. I could feel the sweat running down my back, as I pushed myself slowly against the wall behind me. My pillows cushioned my arch, as I crawled backwards, into a sitting position. I pulled my blue covers as close to my face as I could without covering my eyes. I didn’t want to cover my eyes. I didn’t want to bare what would be in front of me when I decided I was calm enough to pull them back down. My feet were on show. I was scared.
I could hear him tapping his foot on the ground. It was a loud, discomforting sound that echoed through my large bedroom. He began to walk slowly to the middle of the room. The moonlight crept in through the small, narrow gaps in my wooden blinds. I could see his figure more clearly now. He had hooves. The image still repeats itself in my mind. It must be blind, because it turned around and didn’t stare this time. It bumped into the chair that was placed carelessly in the middle of my room, away from the desk which it was intended to be a part of. He made a snorting noise. I could hear him breathing. His heavy breath could be seen passing his lips and into my bedroom, which now felt like a void.
I decided to turn over and face him completely. Suddenly the television turned on. I accidently sat on the remote control. I panicked and grabbed the remote to turn it off. It wouldn’t work, so I went to grab the plug which was right beside my bed, but before I could reach it, he came running towards it, with a sharp, piercing cry. He ran into it, knocking it down, aswell as my records, books and my Playstation, which sat neatly beside it.
I stood up quickly and darted towards the door, without looking behind me. I heard him run, his hooves clicking with each step. I got to the door and shut it viciously behind me. I could hear him, continuing to run around inside
He was at the end of my bed tonight. He had his cold, dead grin on his face again. I didn’t move. I could feel the sweat running down my back, as I pushed myself slowly against the wall behind me. My pillows cushioned my arch, as I crawled backwards, into a sitting position. I pulled my blue covers as close to my face as I could without covering my eyes. I didn’t want to cover my eyes. I didn’t want to bare what would be in front of me when I decided I was calm enough to pull them back down. My feet were on show. I was scared.
I could hear him tapping his foot on the ground. It was a loud, discomforting sound that echoed through my large bedroom. He began to walk slowly to the middle of the room. The moonlight crept in through the small, narrow gaps in my wooden blinds. I could see his figure more clearly now. He had hooves. The image still repeats itself in my mind. It must be blind, because it turned around and didn’t stare this time. It bumped into the chair that was placed carelessly in the middle of my room, away from the desk which it was intended to be a part of. He made a snorting noise. I could hear him breathing. His heavy breath could be seen passing his lips and into my bedroom, which now felt like a void.
I decided to turn over and face him completely. Suddenly the television turned on. I accidently sat on the remote control. I panicked and grabbed the remote to turn it off. It wouldn’t work, so I went to grab the plug which was right beside my bed, but before I could reach it, he came running towards it, with a sharp, piercing cry. He ran into it, knocking it down, aswell as my records, books and my Playstation, which sat neatly beside it.
I stood up quickly and darted towards the door, without looking behind me. I heard him run, his hooves clicking with each step. I got to the door and shut it viciously behind me. I could hear him, continuing to run around inside
So I decided to reactivate my Blogger account, purely because Tumblr is full of reblogged crap (I'm guilty of this, I know) and titties. I started a Tumblr to write about my personal life, but I guess stuff like that blows over people's heads and makes it look like a cheap attempt at getting some kind of internet attention. I think that if I post what I like on this, without being worried of what my 'followers' will think, I might feel somewhat happier about myself, and that I'm not only posting or liking stuff because I want to portray myself in a certain way.
I don't expect anybody to follow, or even read this blog. It'll contain updates about my personal life (for my own analysing), stories, photos and other crap along those lines.
My first proper post will more than likely be one of the stories I've been working on. But you know, who knows!
xoxo
I don't expect anybody to follow, or even read this blog. It'll contain updates about my personal life (for my own analysing), stories, photos and other crap along those lines.
My first proper post will more than likely be one of the stories I've been working on. But you know, who knows!
xoxo
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