OKay so here's the story I wrote. I might continue it sometime but not anytime soon as it is a bit painful for me to write since it is true. I exaggerated none of this. This is the story of how I became the Shuri I am today.
As long as I can remember, I've experienced an above average amount of nightmares. These nightmares consisted of the usual simple frights a young child fears, such as being attacked by the scary images you see on TV or falling from a height. However, the sheer number of these dreams would keep me up many nights, making me cry and scream until my father would come in and spank and yell at me. With no confort from my parents, I had to learn to get used to my nightmares. Until the age of 13, I would sleep soundly at night, and I began to even enjoy my frightening dreams, often replaying the scenarios in my mind and drawing them. Nightmares were regular dreams to me.
Something changed at age 13 though. I sometimes try to light-heartidly think my mind just stepped up its game in trying to scare me. It's just...I began to have a recurring nightmare. That by itself wouldn't be enough to disturb me if it weren't for how vivid they suddenly became. I know what normal dreams are supposed to look and feel like. I don't care if someone says differently. Normal dreams are supposed to be random images. These images come together just enough to fool you into believing its reality, but the moment you wake up you know it was a dream thinking, "Well I know I would never do that." or "What that person was saying made no sense." as well as objects being out of place or defying logic. This was not the case for these new set of dreams I began to have. The first nightmare played out like this:
I was spending time at my father's house. He is a single man, so it wasn't unnatural for him to go out with friends and leave me home alone from time to time. I found myself in the kitchen, eating what I can clearly remember being Sour Patch Kids. All the lights were off in the house except for the kitchen lights, 6 very bright lights that could illuminate the entire house, if it weren't for the amount of corners, shedding dark shadows where the light could not reach. The only sound was the sound of me chewing, and an occasional sound of an airplane about to land in the nearby airport. That's when I heard a creak. It was the slow creaking of one of the house's doors. It scared me and I immediately turned my head to my bedroom door. That was the first time I saw it.
It. There wasn't many words to describe it. The thing was black, wearing a thick robe of some sort that blended in with the darkness it stood in. Atop the black mass was an extremely white face, with a facial expression twisted into such a sad manner that it filled my now frozen body with nothing but despair. I don't know how long we spent staring at one another. In the dream it was just a minute or so, but I shiver thinking that in real life, where the dream is probably much slower, I was staring at that figure for hours. Finally I began to notice it move. My survival instinct began to kick in and I started to panic. "Move...move and run...I've got to run!" I dropped my bag of candy and shot towards the front door, yet to my dismay, I remembered my father had put a new lock on, requiring a set of keys to both enter and exit the house. I had to make way to the garage door, which would require running towards It for a moment. Knowing and doing this only increased my panic and speed. Once the garage was open, I tried to knock on my neighbor's door, but I realized by the time they'd answer I'd be dead.
So I ran around their house, planning to break in through their back window. I could explain everything to them once I was safe. But as a turned the corner, I ran into it. Seeing that face that close still makes me paranoid and shake to just think about it. The shock this induced woke me up instantly. I was in bed again. I was sweating and panting like I had just been in a marathon. I turned all the lights on, sat in a corner, and cried for a good hour until dawn broke and I finally fell asleep. This wouldn't be the last time I'd see the figure. These extrememly vivid dreams would continue until I'd fallen into a deep depression, and developed permanent bags under my eyes.