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In your dreams...

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26 October 2009, 02:23 PM   #1
Guest Poster
This is far from finished cause i kinda got bored writing it. I'll try and write more
now- i'll post a link to my diary when it is finished...

He pressed the gun to my sweaty forehead and I closed my eyes, exhaling deeply as my heart
beat a million times a minute. I grabbed his wrist and twisted his hand away from my face.
His face crunched up in pain as I kicked him between the legs and knocked the pistol from
his hand. I didn’t look at him- just grabbed the gun and ran in the direction of the
door. He hauled himself to his feet and stood in the shadows, glaring helplessly after me.
Slipping the pistol in my handbag, I ran down the alleyway, dodging drug addicts and
leaping over sleeping dogs. Rats scuttled wildly around my feet and squeaked loudly as I
kicked them away. I winced, imagining their pain, and clawed mindlessly at the 7-foot wall
before me. If I jumped, I could probably reach the top and haul myself to the top. I
tried, and just about managed it. Sitting on top of the cold damp wall, I looked back down
the alleyway. The man that had tried to shoot me was standing in a doorway, smoking
something. I could make out his build quite clearly now, and could see an orangey red
circle glowing where his mouth should be. He was walking casually towards me, as if
nothing had happened between us. I jumped into the dumpster on the other side of the wall
and ran home, holding my nose so I couldn’t smell the stench of rotten garbage wafting
up from my clothes.

I woke up and sniffed the air- clean. Did last night really happen, or was it just a
dream? I walked sleepily over to my chair and looked in my handbag- sure enough, there
wasn’t a gun there- why did I think there was? Getting changed however, I could see
grazes, bruises and cuts that definitely weren’t there when I went to bed last night. I
ran my finger over them- they were real. Where had they come from? I pulled a t-shirt on
and fastened my shorts, before running out of the front door and down the road to school.

Lessons had already started- what excuse would I use today? I wandered down the empty
corridor and checked my watch before filling in a section in the late book. ‘Name and
form: Cassie French, 9A. Reason for lateness: Doctors appointment. Time: 9.05’ I
wandered into my English class in the middle of the register. As I pushed the door open,
Mrs Hughes called out my name. “Here…” I muttered and skipped half-heartedly to my
desk. Everyone seemed to be looking at me- staring- despite it being ten past nine on a
Monday morning. I sat down next to Abbie and combed my hair- listening to Mrs Hughes
ranting on about how late I always am on a Monday. “Miss, look. None of us enjoy getting
up so early on a Monday to come to this hell-hole you call school.” Half the class
nodded and agreement but kept staring at my forehead. “What are you looking at?” I
shouted, causing them to turn back around and stare straight ahead. Abbie nudged me.
“Uhm… Cassie? You’ve got something on your forehead.”
“What?? There wasn’t anything there a second ago!” I reached in my bag and pulled
out my compact, staring at the greasy black circle on my forehead.

Dashing into the toilets, I rubbed anxiously at the mark. I was sure it wasn’t that
morning. It wouldn’t move- it was like permanent marker. I turned the tap on and tried
to scrub it off using a section of my sleeve and water. It remained on my forehead, now
even more black and defined. I grabbed my foundation from my bag tried to cover it up, but
it simply made the surrounding skin orange. I ran down the corridor to the office and
signed the ‘out book’, simply stating that I felt ill.  I ran home, hands over my
Flopping down on my bed, I caught sight of myself in my bedroom mirror. My forehead was
orange, but the black mark was no longer there. I couldn’t go back to school- I’d
already made an utter fool of myself. I wiped the foundation from my forehead with my
sleeve and changed into my tracksuit. Lying back down on my bed, I pulled my duvet up to
my ears and slowly dropped off…

Tell me what you think so far and any ideas on what i should write about next?

27 October 2009, 09:10 PM   #2
Guest Poster
It sounds pretty good to start with. I want to know what the black mark was.

27 October 2009, 09:19 PM   #3
Guest Poster
That sounded reaaally awesome ;]
Erm, maybe your character has these recurring dreams again, and she sees them, sort of
semi-there, as she's awake? Kind of like ghosts, I guess.

28 October 2009, 04:20 PM   #4
Guest Poster
@‹as•it•flew•by›: Yeah good idea. I have wrote some more as posted below:

I pulled the gun from my handbag and hid in the shadows. I could see the glow of his
cigarette shining a few meters away from me. Resting my forefingers lightly on the
trigger, I took a deep breath. I was scared- I mean, I know he was trying to kill me, but
wouldn’t shooting him make things one hundred times worse? I could see him walking past
and prepared to shoot, but I felt a masked hand clamp over my mouth. I turned round and
stared into my attackers glittering white eyes. “Don’t shoot!” He shouted, putting
his hands in the air and stepping away from me. I put my arms out straight and pointed the
gun in his direction. “I won’t shoot, if you reveal yourself.” He moved into the dim
circle of light that came from a broken streetlamp and looked straight at the darkness
behind me, shaking. I felt a hand rest on my shoulder and someone’s warm, damp breath on
the side of my face as they whispered into my ear. I turned quickly towards them and
fired, the sound of the gun echoing off the walls and leaving my ears ringing. I heard a
male voice groan and a loud thud as his body hit the mucky ground. Tears welled in my eyes
as I dropped the gun, and ran down the alleyway. I heard heavy, pounding footsteps
following me, their pace quickening as mine did. I turned in the light, and saw that it
was the person that grabbed me. “What the hell did you do that for?” He screamed,
noting that I no longer held the gun. Judging by his accent, he was very welsh. I looked
at the ground and stood back against the wall, suddenly feeling light-headed. I slid down
the scratchy brick and slumped on the floor, tucking my knees against my chest. The welsh
person that had followed me knelt beside me and rested his heavy hand on my shaking
shoulders. “Hey there, don’t cry! Look, I’m sorry I shouted, but there was no need
to shoot that poor bloke!” I looked up at him through my tear-stained eyes and nodded,
blinking furiously. He slipped a blue post-it note with something scribbled on into my
hand, and I slipped it into the pocket of my black adidas tracksuit. When I looked back up
to talk to him, he’d vanished. I ran in the direction of where he might have gone, but I
couldn’t see him anywhere. I turned in dismay and ran home again, trying desperately to
get back before the clock struck 3am.

28 October 2009, 04:41 PM   #5
Guest Poster
Pretty good. I want more!!

28 October 2009, 05:21 PM   #6
Guest Poster
@Link_13: Ok i am typing more up now but you'll have to wait until tomorrow before i can
post more as i only have 20 minutes left.

29 October 2009, 03:58 PM    #7
Guest Poster
I woke up at 8am, more tired than usual. I checked carefully in the mirror for any
embarrassing marks on my face; and making sure that there was definitely none there, I
made my way downstairs for breakfast. I opened the fridge door, grabbed a bottle of milk
and a bar of chocolate, and sat down at the kitchen table. I popped the foil lid off the
bottle and gulped it down, savouring the feeling of the creamy white liquid flowing down
my throat. I wiped my lips and tossed the bottle in the recycling bin, before grabbing my
school bag and heading out to school.

I walked into form just before the bell, and was welcomed by stares from my classmates. I
took a seat at the back of the room and put my feet up on the table, pulling my mirror
from my bag. They must have been imagining things, ‘cause there wasn’t anything there
today. I grabbed the chocolate bar and unwrapped it quietly inside my bag, before breaking
off huge chunks and sharing them out between me and Abbie. She grinned when she saw the
cool pile of brown gold inside my bag. I scooped up her pile and let it fall into her
hands, watching her throw chunks into the air and catch them expertly in her mouth. I
sighed and popped a small piece in my mouth. Feeling the smooth velvety chocolate slide
down my throat and into my stomach made me realise that not everything in life is bad. 

At break, me and Abbie went around the school to the back of the toilet blocks and slumped
on the ground. Abbie pulled a packet of cigarettes and a lighter from her bag and we sat
there puffing away. I inhaled once and almost puked at the foul taste of tobacco in my
mouth. I decided that if I was going to look cool, but not choke to death, I’d just hold
the dreaded thing. I was lost in my thoughts and before long my cigarette had burned down
to just the cotton tip. I dropped it on the ground and poured some of my water on the
smouldering remains. Abbie had closed her eyes and was sucking gently on the cigarette,
puffing out huge clouds of smoke like a dragon. I stood up and coughed loudly, before
walking away- down the alleyway towards the caretakers hut.

It was rather dark for half ten in the morning, but I guess that was because I was stuck
down an alleyway- and it was now raining. I could hear footsteps behind me and shouted to
them, “Go away Abbie. You’re killing me!” Someone put their hand on my shoulder and
caused me to turn around in shock. I clenched my fists and prepared to fight, before
blinking in utter disbelief at who it was stood in front of me. “Hey miss, do I know
you? You look familiar…” His welsh accent sounded like honey in my ears. Well, not
sticky and gooey- but sweet and smooth. I wanted to talk, but I couldn’t. “Come on,
I’m not sure you’re supposed to be down here, are you?”
“Uhm… no. I can’t even remember why I came down here…”
“Are you sure? I mean, you could have been smoking? Which I must say I very unhealthy
for a girl your age. Don’t worry though, I was the same. I quit after one though-
can’t stand the taste of that stuff. It’s an acquired taste I suppose.”
He shrugged his shoulders and walked into the shadows, leaving me standing there staring
after him through the rain.

I turned the tap on and stepped into the shower, pulling the bobble from my hair and
squirting some shampoo onto my hand. I washed my hair and looked into the mirror. I
screamed- this must have been a dream… no. A nightmare. Instead of water pounding down
on my skin- it was blood. I didn’t feel thick and sticky like blood normally did, but
something told me that I wasn’t imagining it. I had the taste of blood in my mouth- I
felt sick. Stepping out of the shower I stood in the bathroom, holding onto the sink for
support. I felt really dizzy, but looking in the mirror again, I noticed there wasn’t
any blood in sight. There was a puddle of soapy water on the floor around my feet, but
that was it.

Lying in my bed, I was dreading going to sleep. No doubt I’d bump into the mysterious
welsh stranger again. But what if I killed someone else? I tried my best not to let my
eyes fall closed, but I didn’t last very long. It seemed falling asleep was inevitable.

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