Night Terrors

NIGHT TERRORS

Eyes snapping open, she sat up in the bed. Beads of cold sweat fell down her face as she glanced around her room wearily. Her dark hair fell in her face as she gulped and breathed deeply. She felt like she just had a panic attack. Heart throbbing, head pouding, a sense of impending DOOM comming over her, blood racing through her veins, but she can't remember why.

My insides turning to snakes, maybe. She thought bitterly. Burning to death. Oh! Quite possibly being tortured like Sherlock Holmes. Damn you, Moriarty. Supressing her frustration, she pushed aside her blankets and stood up.

If she wasn't having the best dreams that she could conjure up, or having the most awful nightmares, she couldn't even remember. But the feeling that she had some mornings when she woke up gave her a good sign that she had a nightmare the night before. She ran a hand through her messy hair and sighed.

'It's your fault.' She remembered the words from her friend. 'You look at all those weird things. It influences your dreams.'

Yeah, it's totally her fault that she's being tortured as she sleeps by the phsyopathic demons in her head. She scoffed and sat back down on her bed.

Why am I so screwed up? She thought angrily. Why can't I be normal? Why do I have to be such a freak. She glanced down at the scars that covered her wrist and shook her head. She knew it was true. She was a freak. She was phsyco. She was a messed up.

But as she whiped away the sweat from her forehead, she decided that she'd just have to live with it.

Author's Note

I have nightmares alot. If only I dreamed about butterflies and faeires.

Reviews

[TheConjuringCat]

You suck, Moriarty! But lovely write, dear. We can be freaks and weirdos together! And I'll handle this person we both know but shall remain nameless. She's a jerk.