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October 1, 2007

Monday

You wake up screaming.

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He woke up screaming, and in a cold sweat. He laid in bed shaking, trying to piece together what was part of his dream, and what what part of reality.

"Shhhhh. Honey, it's OK. You were just having a nightmare."

He laid there with his eyes shut. He couldn't get the images out of his mind. But now everything was alright, as his wife stroked his skin lovingly and whispered soft words in his ear.

"It's OK honey. You're fine. I love you. Go back to sleep."

Then he slowly opened his eyes.

"Honey, why do you have a knife?"

Posted by: Nick at October 1, 2007 12:01 PM · Permalink

The screaming continues to echo, raggedly, eerily, as I gasp for breath, the sound dying out only just as I begin screaming again.

I tell myself to not listen to the screams – to not hear what they say. For if I know not what is being screamed, maybe, just maybe, I won’t know what to fear.

Again my lungs pull in air as the screaming dies away, and in that brief blur of silence my mind begins to take hold.

Why am I screaming in
the dark
Can I move

The screaming begins again.

I have only the
constant
screaming.

Posted by: kipp at October 1, 2007 4:21 PM · Permalink

Glenda left the nightclub and walked as quickly as she could down the snow-populated foot path. The cold wind whipped the scarf around her face as she struggled to reach the frozen 73 Chevy sitting three blocks away.

After a sudden and eerie feeling she was being followed, she bolted around but in the process, lost her footing and fell to the ground. As she lifted her head out of the icy snow bank, she saw it, its headlights unblinkingly fixed on her.

With a scream in her throat, she woke suddenly in her hospital bed, wheelchair at the ready.

Posted by: Rick at October 1, 2007 9:25 PM · Permalink