Status: Work in Progress- Please comment :p
The Nightmare
The Dark
“Mummy!” I screamed, as I ran from the Dark, creeping ever closer, “Mummy! Please help me, Mummy!”
“No one will help you now, child,” I heard my mother’s voice telling me, “No one will help.”
“Please, Mummy! Help me!” I kept running as fast as I could towards my bedroom door, where there was a crack of light showing, but just as I reached it, the light went off. I screamed as loud as I could and started crying. Then I remembered my little torch and fumbled for it in my night dress pocket. I could see the Dark getting closer and closer, and I backed into the corner of my room that was furthest away from it. All I needed was my little torch. I frantically fumbled for the torch then realised with horror that I had dropped it as I was running towards the door. “Just leave me alone! Please, just go away!” I sobbed. I could almost feel the smugness radiating from the Dark, and I cried harder, knowing there was nothing I could do. I backed further into the corner and screamed.
** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **
I woke up in a cold sweat and looked at the clock beside my bed. 4.30 AM. I groaned and sat up. Always the same nightmare. Right back from my childhood. Always the Dark coming to get me. Never anyone to help. Not even my own mother.
I slid out of my bed, wrapped my dressing gown around me, shoved my feet into my bunny slippers and went downstairs. I put some coffee beans into the coffee machine and looked at myself in the mirror as I waited for it to brew. “You look terrible,” I told myself, “After your coffee, you seriously need to fix yourself up.”
I downed my coffee and raced back up the stairs to the bathroom. I filled up the sink with water and splashed my face and neck. I brushed my teeth and tried to fix my curly, liquorice black hair so that it would sit right, and like every other morning, ended up just scraping it back into a loose bun. I quickly put mascara onto my heavily lashed, dark brown eyes, and went to my room to get changed into something for work. I looked through my floor-drobe and pulled out a black, high-waisted pencil skirt, a thick, black belt, a red tank top, a black suit jacket and black, patent high-heels.
When I had finished gussying myself up, I hurried down the stairs, grabbed my faithful oversized black bag and opened the door.
“Hello, Bella.”
I looked up, startled and said, “What are you doing here?”
“No one will help you now, child,” I heard my mother’s voice telling me, “No one will help.”
“Please, Mummy! Help me!” I kept running as fast as I could towards my bedroom door, where there was a crack of light showing, but just as I reached it, the light went off. I screamed as loud as I could and started crying. Then I remembered my little torch and fumbled for it in my night dress pocket. I could see the Dark getting closer and closer, and I backed into the corner of my room that was furthest away from it. All I needed was my little torch. I frantically fumbled for the torch then realised with horror that I had dropped it as I was running towards the door. “Just leave me alone! Please, just go away!” I sobbed. I could almost feel the smugness radiating from the Dark, and I cried harder, knowing there was nothing I could do. I backed further into the corner and screamed.
** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **
I woke up in a cold sweat and looked at the clock beside my bed. 4.30 AM. I groaned and sat up. Always the same nightmare. Right back from my childhood. Always the Dark coming to get me. Never anyone to help. Not even my own mother.
I slid out of my bed, wrapped my dressing gown around me, shoved my feet into my bunny slippers and went downstairs. I put some coffee beans into the coffee machine and looked at myself in the mirror as I waited for it to brew. “You look terrible,” I told myself, “After your coffee, you seriously need to fix yourself up.”
I downed my coffee and raced back up the stairs to the bathroom. I filled up the sink with water and splashed my face and neck. I brushed my teeth and tried to fix my curly, liquorice black hair so that it would sit right, and like every other morning, ended up just scraping it back into a loose bun. I quickly put mascara onto my heavily lashed, dark brown eyes, and went to my room to get changed into something for work. I looked through my floor-drobe and pulled out a black, high-waisted pencil skirt, a thick, black belt, a red tank top, a black suit jacket and black, patent high-heels.
When I had finished gussying myself up, I hurried down the stairs, grabbed my faithful oversized black bag and opened the door.
“Hello, Bella.”
I looked up, startled and said, “What are you doing here?”