I’ve always liked scary stories, I’d listen to them before I went to bed but I just thought, “They aren’t real right?” That’s pretty much what everyone wants to think because you can be afraid of the unexplainable.
I thought nothing of the nightmares I remembered from when I was a kid, until they started reoccurring. They started when I was about five, now I’m seventeen and I just keep thinking they could actually mean something.
I remembered they stopped when I was ten because I went to a different foster home. I changed back to the foster home I was in and now they’re back. They are the kind of nightmares you can’t tell if they’re real or not so I wake up and have to make sure I’m still alive. This is going to sound weird but I don’t know who the people in my dreams are, it hurts me when they die. Literally. Still I have no idea who they are.
Lately it’s been worse though every time I wake up there’s a girl crying in the corner but I’m not the stupid person who gets up and tries to see whats wrong because when she goes ‘left 4 dead’ your screwed. I’ve noticed she is a girl who hurts me a lot when she dies, she has long black hair and wears a white dress although the only reason you notice is because there are blood stains on the dress. She was pale.
These dreams kept going and I’d kept looking around and she would be in the corner of my room but a few nights ago she wasn’t. She sat on the floor and stared at me. She had deep black holes for eyes and her lips glistened gray, when she started to smile her mouth was red and poured out blood, she had a big smile when she stared at me I felt she knew and loved me. I felt safe oddly enough.
Last night is the reason I’m writing this because I found out something that gave me chills and I figured I won’t be here long. Last night was terrifying. I had the same nightmare of everyone I love apparently dying but I woke up because I felt someone watching me.
It was her.
When I woke up she was against the wall at the foot of my bed. I heard her walking towards me, the cracking of her bones and the slushing of her rotting bleached flesh.
With every step you could hear her bones cracking like a pig eating an apple. She got to the foot of my bed and the blood dripped down her face and onto my feet. As she moved closer her hair moved from her face and I looked into her eyes. It was never a dream, it was a memory. I remembered who everyone was, my biological family and my sister was at the foot of my bed.
