The Worst Nightmare - Original Writing

Months ago I had a date, we went to panda express after walking around Des Moines all day. I was so nervous I got the sweet and sour chicken even though I hate it. The first bite was mushy and gooey, but not the kind of gooey you like your brownies to be, it was the kind of gooey meat is when they name it “roast with gravy” and give it to you during a 2-hour flight. The crust felt like wet bread and tasted tart almost like it was fermented for too long and it immediately made me want to puke. Trying to swallow the bland doughty chicken was torture but from across the table I could see my date smiling as they exclaimed: “This chicken is so buttery, isn't it delicious?”.

The stench of death hit my nostrils as I opened the door to go inside, which is why I always hated going to the hospital. We waited the fifteen minute queue, until I heard my name from a nurse. I followed the nurse into a small, beige room. I sat down on the examining table, as my doctor walked in. I told him my symptoms, and he did a quick check up. His cold fingers pressed against my lower back. “Breathe in and out.” He said. I did as told. “Slower.” he exclaimed. At that moment, while I was slowly breathing in and out, I could hear a small click every time I inhaled. The doctor looked up and said, “Ahhh, you seem to have pneumonia.” He explained to my mom and I what that meant because we were clueless. After he finished, he told us that if I waited any longer to go to the hospital, he wouldn’t be speaking to me, which opened my mom’s eyes finally. He told me that I couldn’t go to school for at least another two weeks, gave me a school note and my prescription. We left the hospital. My mom dropped me off, and went to pick up the medication. As I lay in bed, I remember thinking about everything that has happened to me in the past two days, and what the doctor told me. Those thoughts were interrupted by the opening of my bedroom door as my mom walked in. She handed me the medication. I swallowed the pills, and fell asleep. The next morning my mom walks in with a stack of papers. She said, “It’s alright if you’re not able to attend class,

Robin Wood, the author of "The American Nightmare: Horror in the 70s" does an extraordinary job in explaining American Horror Films and how it is that they provokes fear to the public. A very important topic in his article is the topic of repression. Wood takes the term repression (a type of holding down) a step further and categorizes it into two different types. One type being basic repression and the second one being surplus repression. Basic repression is described by Wood as "universal, necessary, and inescapable." Robin would argue that basic repression is a process in which all humans have or will go through at some point in their life. Basic repression is what allows us to become distinguishable mammals. It's the ability to remain

I spent the next few days looking for these answers, searching the deepest corners of my brain for information I knew I would not find. I would never know why she did it to herself, but I longed for understanding. While she was getting treatment in the hospital, she used her one allotted phone call to call me, not her parents. Again, with fear and anxiety, I put the phone to my ear.

One day she was observed struggling to breathe. The author discovered that Karen had a bottle of tablets when he removed the bed covers. She had taken an overdose in an attempt to commit suicide. She was taken to Deacon’s Hospital Intensive Care Unit to pump out the stomach contents and also to neutralise the effect of the overdose. Karen had declared that she never wanted to go to the hospital should her condition gets worse. When Karen was now aware where she was, she complained to the author who apologised and said he would not let her pass on when he can do something about it. From Intensive Care Unit she was transferred to a private ward for recuperating.

One night as I searched for my mother, my dad told me she was not feeling like herself. My dad told me to let her rest that night and I could talk to her the following morning. As I started to wake up the next morning my father was sitting at the foot of my bed and informed me I’d be spending the day with my Aunt Michelle because my mother had a doctor’s appointment. I could not wrap my head around why I would not be attending this appointment but had attended all the others. Later that evening once again both my parents came into my room but this time without smiles. With a shaky voice my mom began to tell me she had been diagnosed with Preeclampsia and her illness was progressing quickly. Now with tears running down her face she continued

The drugs started to take effect in the worst possible moment. My knees bunched over with every step I took, and no matter how many times I gasped for air I couldn't breath. It was useless, it felt like I was running under water. My heart was pounding in my throat, threatening to breakout of its cage and leave my mouth in the form of bile. It wasn't raining, but my cheeks were damp. Just like a river the tears flowed down my face and blurred my vision.

causing an outroar between her and my parents, my mom asked me what I knew about Maddy and she wanted to know everything. so many thoughts rushed through my head, one specifically saying, “you made a promise”. I tried so hard to hold back tears, but I couldnt. And all I said to my mom was that she had smoked weed once. I couldnt keep it in anymore, but i couldnt let it all out so after that my mom got up and I sat on the couch. She left the room and it was almost as if not a physical pain hit me, but a mental pain rushed through my body, and I completely broke

I craved her while she was away. Her control on me was undeniable. I’ve never loved and hated someone so much in my entire life.

I observed a young girl name Julianna at her home. As I arrived at her house and knocked on the door she greeted and opened the door for me. She was happy to see someone different other than her mother’s. Julie was full of energy even though she just got back from school. Well right away she took me to see her pet bunny named “beast”. When I was done seeing her pet bunny, I came to the dining table. I interviewed Julie’s mother to get some insight of how she was when she was a baby till now. The first question I asked to Julie’s mother was, “How was her pregnancy?” She responded, “Like any other normal pregnancy, I had morning sickness, craving for oranges.” Julie’s mother told me during her four month of pregnancy she got sick but luckily

She was there to make sure that I was okay and asked if she could do anything

I wonder how many of us regret losing our innocence. Do we remember the exact moment it happened? To me, innocence is the lack of awareness of people being untrustworthy and bad. The moment you realize that the world is not what you thought when you wore your rose colored glasses is very sad. We may wish we could go back and erase what we know or attempt to get back what was lost, but unfortunately that just cannot happen. God is an incorporeal being and the source of all moral obligations. Losing our innocence is about experiences from the rebellion against God by ourselves or others that cause our spirit to be broken or wounded. In, “The God of Nightmares”, by Paula Fox we will analysis the loss of innocence and the world of faith destroyed, thus embodying the God of nightmares.

That night, I gave up. As I watch her lay in bed, I saw her life fade away. Her heartbeat was irregular and her breath was strained. I was never the same after that day. Medication is not just a lifesaver, but it is a killer too.

She stood up to see and then look down on me with the biggest smile on her face and nod yes. Tears started to roll down my eyes it was the best feeling ever its hard to explained it, I was so happy but at the same time anxious I wanted to see her I wanted to hold her, I knew that they had to check her and clean her up. The nurse signal my sister to go where they were cleaning her it felt like the longest time ever I could see the doctor moving it seem like they were pulling and tugging but honestly didn’t care what they were doing to me, I just wanted to see Minerva I wanted to hold her. I had carried this little person for 37 weeks, I had felt her kicks, her hiccups, I had talk to her about this day, I had already been mad at her for the night

During this time, my mother found that her diamond earrings were missing. She then subconsciously had a feeling that Becky knew where they were. My mother asked Becky about it and Becky just said she didn’t know anything about it, but that wasn’t the true story at all. By that time I was in Nebraska visiting my favorite aunt. A week went by and I had missed Mother’s day that year since our flight was canceled, so we stayed an extra day. The next day I finally get home, not to find a warm home with my family greeting me at the door, but instead to find my parents and my sister with a couple of suitcases in their hands walking to the car. I proceed to ask my mother what was wrong with my sister and she replied with “Yesterday Becky confessed that for the past year, she has been doing heroin.” My heart sank. I never thought it was that serious. My parents took her to rehab, and I went into my room and cried the rest of the day.