Drew Awoke In A Cold Sweat. He Had Had The Same Recurring

The night drew closer around the individuals who, some in dreams, some in panic, seemed to react to impending danger and turned, some to nightmares, some to an eerie calm, as those on death row that accepted their demise for what it was, an abrupt shattering of their existence. Be that as it may, however, some did not wish to go so simply. While some wished for a calm ending, but embraced nevertheless a less subtle end, that of fire and mutilation, others feared it for what it was, or what it could be. Some feared being lost, trapped in a dungeon of previously sound architecture, to watch the edges of their vision turn to the blackness of

“Just so you know” she sobs. “My family isn’t so perfect either. Yes. My parents have remained married. Sure, on the outside we look good. But a couple of years ago I found out that my mother had an affair. My mother cheated and…” She shoves a finger at her chest. “I am a product of that affair.”

“AHHH!” I screeched. My voice echoed and I crumpled to the floor. As I lay on the ground, a smell seemed to enter and toxicate the air. I didn’t run, I didn’t fight the urge to fall asleep, I didn’t care if I died right there and then. In my mind I had already died, and my spirit was still back in bed dreaming of nothing important. I was just a body, a body waiting to meet the horror of this white prison. As I lay crying and beginning to holsinate another wave of white washed over me.

My heart sank like a bottomless ocean. I was standing there is shock and just wanted to wake up from this horrible dream.Then Hilda, Beatrice, Tzipora and me started walking away from Elie and Shlomo.This is when I could hear Elie and Sholom leaving me forever.Slowly disappearing into the gray, dark and gloomy fog.They were are gone forever. ”Mother.Where are we going.”I don't know.”After all of the sudden, I could see a pile of pale and skinny dead people.That was one of the most disgusting things that I have seen.I could see flies and dogs feeding on their corpses like their food.Then I could see smoke coming from a tall and dark chimney from an old, abandoned building. ”Is that...the...the…,”What do you want to say? .It's the crematoria.We can't go.’They can't take you guys away from me

“Mama!”. She nestled into her mother’s arms. “Why would they do this to me? How could they?”

Crumpled newspapers scattered the table like the bones of dead bodies after war. Windows wiped down of memories huddled between oak frames, facing a street with cosy cottages. Single embroidered carpets hugged the floor, covering the marble tiles in delicate silk. A whisper of wind floated in through cracks of the panes of glass, whispering it's songs of misery throughout the house. I breathed in gulps of air, allowing the icy coolness to fill my lungs, and the morning frost creep out. My glistening blue eyes presented purple bags, and my sleek hair was a tangled cobweb. My feet dragged along the stone floor like the walking of the undead. I’d been up all night, searching and seeking for answers.

“P...Parents?” Simon repeated the word, pouting. He’d never heard it before… The man frowned, and tilted his head with a look of concern.

Adjusting my midnight blue tie, I hurried down the sidewalk to St. John’s Baptist Church. Sunday morning, and I was barely awake, the thick fog blurring my vision. If you haven’t already guessed, I’m the enterprising young fellow that springs out of bed at five o’clock every weekend to ring the church bells, waking up my dead and dying little town. This Sunday was muggy as usual, the sun never showing up to greet me. Skipping up the cement steps, I took hold of the clammy oakwood door to let myself in.

I sighed. He was growing from a boy to a man so quickly, and things that should not concern him now did. “I don’t know, but they did it. They’ve done it before and

He woke, shivering, in the darkness, we call night. A silk, bright blanket wrapped around him. He had bloodshot eyes as stars blazed in the sky. Owen Prudence, a 13 year old, homosexual boy with extreme social anxiety. He’d always hated speaking in public. He constantly dreaded each and every second before an upcoming presentation in Mrs. Malcolm’s class. It was 4:30 AM, Owen only had two more hours until he strolled into hell. His supernatural power couldn’t save him this time.

“Then came the night that my dad called me downstairs...said my mom and him wanted to talk with me about something.”

“I didn’t know if you would allow a dog in the house,” the Dad said.

His dreams are vague and unsettling—dark and shadowed and blurry with figures made of light, shiny and indistinct to his eyes. Distant laughter and inaudible but horribly familiar voices whisper in the background. There’s a hand on his shoulder and another stroking his hair, but no matter where he looks no one is there.

“Mom, I know what love is. I am a man now.” Louis scoffed, making his mom kiss his head.

As Billy looked down the long labyrinth of darkness, a feeling of emptiness came across him. The painful silence filled by the squeaky pedals of his bicycle as he made his way through the hall. With every creak of the floor boards beneath him, and every rattle of the picture frames above, Billy’s heart skipped a beat. As Billy crossed the open window—a chilling breeze smacked him. The pain travelled through his spine to every inch of his body. Billy shuddered. It felt like there were cob webs and creatures all over his skin.