The 's Not Mad Is She

The clock struck 3am; I jolted out of bed. Normally, I would be fast asleep dreaming about what I was going to awake to cooking on the stove, but this night was different. An immense pain struck me, so strong I couldn't bear to lie back down. The look of confusion and terror on my face must have been one to please even the likes of Stephen King himself.

After a few more minutes of waiting Anna decided to get out of bed and walk down to the food court to see if her father was there. After getting out of bed, Anna found a note taped to her father’s chair that she hadn’t seen before scripted in scribbly letters saying Based on your actions he might come back don’t tell anyone about this and he will come back unharmed. Anna hurriedly found the bag of her clothes that her mother had delivered overnight and pulled on a hot pink mini skirt and a white long sleeve crop top. After getting dressed Anna opened her door and stepped outside, there was no one anywhere to be seen. She continued to walk down the hall and there was still no noise and no one in sight. She walked straight to the elevator and went down to the first floor where the food court should be, but there was no one there either, the hospital had been abandoned and she was sure that the songbook and the object that played her melody the night before were somehow behind it all. She ran back up to her room as carefully as she could trying not to hurt her arm, and once she arrived at the door she grabbed the music book off the desk beside of her bed, tried to flush it down the toilet, and stuffed her cell phone in her bag of clothes that her mom had bought. She was about to pick up her bag when she heard a new melody right outside of her door. La, La, La, La, La, La. La, La, La, La, La. La, La, La, La, La. La, La, La, La, La, La, La. She wanted to see what was making the noise so she carefully opened her door and peeked through the opened crack. There nothing was there! She grabbed her bag of clothes and ran down the steps as quickly as she could but then she heard a voice behind her, “Aaaaannnnnnnnnnnaaaaaaa!!!!” the voice moaned “Aaaaannnnnnnnnnnaaaaaaa it isn’t safe at your house!!!!” said the voice. She spun around and saw a scrawny old man

I woke up later when I heard some rattling at the door handle. Panicked, I call out “Ethan, is that you?” As soon as I said that, the rattling stopped and I could hear footsteps in the hallway as the front door slammed open. But there wasn’t anybody there. I screamed as loud as I could and not even two minutes later Ethan was running inside to find me. “What’s wrong?!” He asked looking terrified. “Nothing, just a bad dream I guess.” I said with tears streaming down my cheeks. “That doesn’t explain why the door was open.” He said sternly. I insisted he should go home and he gave me his phone number in case I needed anything. I tried as hard as I could to stay awake, but eventually I succumbed to my

“How bad is he hurt?” Ben asked. She looked over to see she had everyone’s full attention.

Pounding on the door, I yelled, “Catelina! Open the door! It’s me! Grayson!” A piercing scream sounded from the apartment. I bashed the door down in a rush and ran into the apartment. The scream sounded again. It’s from the direction of the bathroom. Opening the bathroom door, blood came into my vision. Speckles of bright red blood decorated the white tiles. Catelina was lying in a puddle of blood. Her eyes wide open in fright and blood gushing out from her torn neck. Suddenly, patches of darkness appeared in front of me as my conscious slowly drifted away. A pair of hypnotising eyes was the last thing I saw.

“You’re going to spend next month here? With her?” The elder seems not shocked exactly, maybe a little disappointed.

“I am working on that, I promise. She needs more time, but as soon as she’ll have me, if I’m lucky enough, we will marry.”

“I will definitely do my best to, Miss Allie - I would not want to miss out on the opportunity to be apart of your stable of suitors.”

It took three hours to relax enough for sleep, but once I did, I kept waking from a recurring nightmare. Charles’s eyes staring at me. Changing colors. Blue. Green. Amber. Violet. The crackle of an electric storm detonating his eyes. I kept hearing his voice. “You are my match.”

“Yes, but we need to rest. We are too . . . breakable,” Michael replied. “I’ll be in my room if you need me.”

She was at the part of her dream where she’d always jerk awake, but it didn’t happen now. Instead, the boy reached over and grabbed a book. Before she knew it, she was being crushed into the desk the boy sat at. Without a reason, rage overcame her and she blacked out. When she came to, she was a Person

"Yes I'm sure she will and will literally jump for joy when I tell her the news."

"Miranda and Sam can't help but flirt. Spending time with Sam has been a huge lift for Miranda. They are getting very close, he makes her feel sexy and that is exactly

The world is always so quiet at this time, no one expects anything of anyone. All the cars along the highway lessen as dawn comes, but there’ll be a rush again soon. The tiles under my feet clink as I walk, but the cool wind drowns out any noise. My legs dangle over the gutter of the roof as I suck back on the burning cigarette. Another one, I think to myself. This is the third night in a row I’ve had a nightmare. I wake up with this burning sensation in my head, as if it’s run a million miles, my heart beating out of my chest and my breath is quick and heavy. They always end the same. A man I don’t see whispers something to me, and everything turns to white noise and screaming.

Now, Florian Jones was a remarkably average man. A little eccentric, perhaps, but fairly normal. He was exactly thirty-three years, eleven months, and eight days old , and he had always been a dreamer. Florian loved dreams. In fact, he kept a log of his dreams. He remembered them every night, as clearly as the day. He had notebooks upon notebooks full of dreams, a dream for every night since he was eleven years old. He often wondered if there was something more to them and sometimes spent hours with his notebooks spread around him, trying to make sense of it all. He’d read all the best books on dream interpretation, but he just couldn’t decipher it. Nonetheless, he continued to immerse himself in his notebooks, searching for answers.