Short Story : ' Eureka, Breakfast ! '

863 Words4 Pages
“Eureka, breakfast!” I was sitting at my desk, writing down my recent nightmare in my newly brought diary. My third this year. I was hoping that as I grew up and learnt more about the real world, my dreams would become nothing more than innocent little fantasies about butterfly’s and unicorns. Except ever since that first dream, 14 years ago, they had gotten worse. Not that watching your own dad die wasn’t bad, considering I think I’m the one that killed him, but they got more detailed. Less vivid and more real everything was a lot clearer, I could feel, see and smell everything around me. It was so bad sometimes I thought I’d never wake up. “Be there in a second mum!” I called back. I really needed to shake off this dream. I could still hear the screams of people at the young village as their homes were torched; their families were herded like sheep and then lined up for their inevitable execution. Even the scent of burnt wood and straw still dared to linger in her nostrils. Tucking her journal back on her bookshelf between her copy of the bible and her Ouija board, two conflicting spiritual beliefs, but as long as the dreams occurred she needed all of the help she could get. I walked down stairs and into their bite sized kitchen. She found her mother saying whilst cooking, what looked like pancakes, but mum being mum, it was properly something entirely different. She was swaying her hips, her long light, dyed brown hair flying wildly about her. Unlike her mother Eureka

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