Creative Writing: Mikan's Nightmare

“Wake up,” that’s what I heard after passing out from all the blows to the face. My vision is blurred I’m trying to stay awake but I lost consciousness; all of a sudden I felt a splash of coldness on my face, and I woke up gasping for air. The man with the deep ominous voice said, “Wakey wakey little man” I replied, “where the h*ll is Mako!” when I was fully aware of where I was, that’s when I started to panic.

He woke up in a cold sweat on the floor of a strange, rusty iron elevator, there were steel barrels, crates, and coils of rope. He felt the elevator stop and he could faintly hear people talking above him. Suddenly, big iron doors above him swung open and he was blinded by the light that came out. “Hey there!” a voice said. “Well you must be confused, let me help clear things up a bit. I’m Ethan, I run things around here”.

“Some people say I was lucky to survive, other will say I deserved it for the choice I made. I’m here to say I was lucky, it’s never ok to say your life isn’t worth living even at your worst you can always look forward tomorrow will come and if you put your mind to it you’ll see that anything is possible.” – Stephen McGregor Professional Paralympian

I comfortably drive my car into the desolate street, Perusing the deserted buildings, Smashes windows and rusted For Sale signs. The car locked up like Fort Knox. I observe the street for trouble. Two young boys look at me from afar as if I'm an alien. Do I stand out that much same greasy hair, expensive clothes, a smart car I suppose I am out of my comfort zone? “Mister, you don’t belong here” his hand gripped his switch. “Pony.... Ponyboy Curtis” I stammer “I live here or at least I did, I'm here to see two-bit’ The Boys turn around “geez his old now” the boy's chirp. The boys stroll away in awe that they saw the great Ponyboy.

“In the new dream the dragon-like thing was between them, and somehow the mother managed to get the girl away. When her daughter finished telling the story, there was a bizarre look on the mother's face. As soon as she asked what was wrong, the mother explained. Those were not dreams. How’s that for spirits?”

Back in the main level of the factory, Wolf and Fox find Hawk lying on the ground, pale and unresponsive, his bulletproof vest next to him and the edges of a red stain showing around a wad of gauze. A soldier that Fox assumes is N-Unit's medic kneels next to him, along with Snake and Coyote. The three medics are talking frantically among themselves. The rest of N-Unit hovers nervously nearby; the rest of H-Unit is nowhere to be seen. Dust particles dance through the beams of sunlight from the holes where windows used to be, giving the whole scene a strangely dreamy air.

By Saturday afternoon, the eighty-seven residents of the rural southern town of Wrongberight have suffered through four days of intense intermittent rainstorms. And to add to their misery another storm approaches the town from the northeast. Now, Clemmy Sue Jarvis since birth has lived here and has a simple philosophy concerning weather. As long as the almighty man upstairs allows her to draw a breath, she will enjoy life, regardless of the weather. At four o’clock, she lifts her petite frame into her rusty Ford pickup, and gradually eases out of her driveway. The soaring Pines that surround her home sway to the rhythm of the gusting wind as she turns south onto Flat Bottom Road and follows it along the edge the Dismal Swamp towards the isolated

She stands alone in pitch blackness trying to gather her bearings and when she realizes her surroundings she moves, creeping slowly, silently in a direction that is singing her name. She knows this dream, a false reality filled with memories forgotten and fantasies, inklings of hidden little dreams of things she never had but always wanted.

Good. I touch the icon and drag it. Oh, it’s following my finger’s movement. Alright, let’s see… I drag it to the slot that indicates my right hand. Immediately, the bokutõ shows up on my hand with a quick white light.

Since then, Tina’s dreams have grown increasingly weird: a faceless man knocking at the door, asking for her hand, a full moon bathing graves in the middle of the forest, and a golden key on a chain brought to her by a crow. As Tina works to unravel the meaning of her dreams before something else terrible happens, she realizes that her memories are of both the

"...i’ve been showing up to this all wrong, or perhaps, just way too long… in hopes of re-igniting a brief memory or fueling a future fantasy…but in the here-and-now, this 'trying to be friends thing' just ain’t gonna fly and I must now activate a radical act of self-love, amputate what's left and simply say good-bye…"

“Yes I am very sorry about hurting your family and but I have no friends and I have no one to talk to but i know that is not an excuse for making all those disasters,” he replied in a embarrassed voice.

Madam saw a look of unease flash across Alex’s face before disappearing a mask of indifference and it tugged at her heart-strings. She didn’t understand then and she couldn’t understand now, why someone would essentially throw their child away.

A small child crying teased her subconscious as it sliced through the silence of the early morning hour. Just on the fringes of reality, it kept a constant litany. In her drowsy state, she thought, could it be? Stranger things had happened lately, but this was something entirely new, never heard before.

Waking up was the most difficult for her. Once the alarm clocked stopped buzzing the sound of yelling from downstairs would completely pull her into reality. After surviving the morning at her home she met another set of problems at school, people would either act like she was invisible or they would drag her down with words and actions such as pushing her into the wall or throwing her down to the ground.