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Nightmare |
| Written by Jessica | |
| Tuesday, 08 April 2008 | |
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Share it:      I could hear so much from where I lay, as silent as a mouse, in the presence of a preditor, my nightmare; I had always been afraid of him but nothing compared to what I was feeling now that he had me trapped. My heart drummed in my chest as I watched his shadow move across the floor. I could not breathe, I dared not move, for fear that even the slightest whisper from my mouth would alert him to my consciousness. I was meant to be out cold, I had heard them talking about it a while back; if they found me awake, I knew that they would kill me in the most cruel way. Movement, then a voice belonging to a woman in her early 20s asks, impatient, "What are we going to do about the bodies, Michael?" her question went unanswered and my body stiffened as the seconds passed. There still hadn't been an answer after a minute or so but I knew that instructions had been given; the footsteps that neared me were definately female. There was no way that I could mistake the quick, but light, footsteps. "Watch your step, Lily." I could hear Michael sigh and then laugh: I could feel her piercing gaze even through the coffin that I had been thrown in. I hoped that she would forget that I was there but most of all, I wanted him to see me not breathe. When I heard te distinct sound of the lach unlocking, my abused heart began to flutter erratically: I should have known that my luck could not be this good.
* I felt more than a little awkward as Michael pinned me to the wall, "My patience is wearing thin, love, I cannot stand you taunting me!" he turned to the apprehensive-looking Lily, "Can't you see!?" Lily gasped, wide-eyed, as he sniffed my neck and growled playfully. "I wonder if you taste as good as last time?" I could feel my eyelids begin to droop, had I really been that tierd, or was something more sinister draining my energy? All I knew was, what he was doing to me, again, was in no way natural. "Michael!" Lily gasped, her eyes wide, I saw something liquid and red reflecting vividly in her eyes and I knew what it was that I saw. I froze, recalling what it was that he had told me; "There is a part of me that I'd never want you to meet, Anna, a dangerous part that does not love you the way I do." I hadn't taken him seriously, I do not know why but, at the time, I could not imagine myself not wanting to know any part of him. The pain only increased as he removed his jaggered teeth from my neck; blood, crimson and vile, coated Michael's hands and ran down his viened arms. My shirt was ruined, stained forever, marking me as weak, with my tears. * I could only whisper short sentences for days afterwards, I felt as though I were dying, my blood seemed to burn in my veins like hot oil through a pipe; I beggeed Michael to kill me, but he had simply laughed in my face like this was an impossible request. I hated him, hated everything that reminded me of him, hated what he had turned me into: a monster that lived forever; there was no denying it; I was cursed just like him, with the thirst for the sweetest nector, blood. Once he was the Nightmare, lethal and sly as he was, but now it seemed that I was the Nightmare, a vile creature with an uncontollable lust for death and it's rewards. I am the nightmare, my nightmare, your nightmare, and that is all I will ever be.
Copyright 2008 Jessica |
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| Last Updated ( Saturday, 26 April 2008 ) |
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