The dream called It

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic

A first person and Third, this tale of Claire and her dreams get out of hand when she relaizes it's real life. THis is a short story, meaning it's not going to be updated. Thank you for reading.

This was the day I die. I knew it. Sooner or later, they would come for me, and I would die. I heard footsteps, a steady pace. And a few more. Stumbling, struggling. "A child," Thought I, for I knew that only a child or a teenager could walk in that manner. I began to feel slightly trapped in my white walled room, straightjacket placed on my body. I sat in the middle, completely immobile. I felt vulnerable.

 

I heard screeching from across the hall. I took in everything happening. The madness here was so horrible. I twisted in my jacket, until I freed a hand. I ran the hand throughout my hair, feeling the silky texture. I haven't seen myself for a while, but before I was here, my hair was a beautiful gold, and everyone told me how great it looked. I blinked my eyes, knowing I was going to miss them too.

 

A wrecked sob escaped my throat as I began to stop thinking it was okay. I was about to die. The wretched screaming stopped at that moment. I held my breath. No footsteps approached my door, and I sighed. I was probably the last to die today. I began to force myself on my legs, and I walked over to the bed in the corner. Desperately trying not to assume my fate, I forced up the window. It broke. I quickly rolled under my bed, knowing since it was nearly pitch black, they wouldn't see me.

 

The door burst open. I felt the urge to scream, but I held it in. I hoped they would take the bait and think I ran. They did.

 

"She couldn't have ran very far!" The first man cried, trying to close the broken window.

"We shouldn't have given her a windowed room!"

"Did anyone give her sedatives?" The head asked, tapping his foot, I watched them all freeze, because they had NOT given me them. One doctor assumed the position to look under the bed. I closed my eyes. "Come on, Bill! We don't have time for that."

 

The doctors began to leave the room, one by one. I sighed inwardly, in peace. It was at that moment I realized, The window was still open. I pushed it open all the way, and I began to inch out of it. I climbed the rigid wall down to the first floor balcony. I jumped off, and I heard the horrible snap, and felt it in a little bit. I limped for a little bit, knowing I had probably hurt my ankle.

 

I reached over, and wrapping it with my sleeve, I inched behind a bush. I touched the swollen area, hissing when It felt bruised. I didn't realize, at that time, the jump was dangerous. I whimpered and forced myself to go on, blocking out the pain. I soon came upon the forest, and was about to step in when I knew my time was up. It had finally caught up to me. I screamed as it clawed me, and I tried to run. Too late. It was already grabbing me, ready to devour me.

Last thing I remembered, was going into his slimy mouth.

"No!" Claire screamed, bolting out of her bed. She was back in her home. No thing had happened to her. She ran downstairs. Dinner was bubbling on the stove, her mother with a magazine. She put it down.

"Dear are you alright?" Her voice turned sinister, and her face changed into the it. Claire began to cry, and she threw up on the carpet. She couldn't take it much longer.

"N-No! Stop, please! Don't!" Claire's words turned into babbling until she just started screaming. By the time the police arrived, the child was gone, and the mother sat on the couch.

"Welcome, gentlemen. Come sit down. I just had dinner."


Submitted: December 07, 2013

© Copyright 2020 PyroIvy. All rights reserved.

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