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Nightmare

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Hello my victims. I’m Nightmare, and this is my story.
It was a normal day going home on the bus. Everyone was singing, shouting, laughing, having fun. Then there was me.  I sat in the front of the bus, listening to music, so no one would bully me. Ever since one of my ex-friends, who’s now my bully, blamed everything she said about the slut of the school on me, everyone hates me. All because my bitch of a “friend”, Skylar. I quickly left the bus and walked home. Once I got home, I did my homework and locked myself away in my room as usual.
It all started soon after that.
I was in school walking through the halls, of course getting tripped, pushed, and teased throughout the day. I usually let myself become invisible, but I still get very good grades. Which was awesome considering that bitch Skylar  was in academic and I was in honors.
During lunch, I sat alone and read stories on my IPhone. Not any of the new ones. Just the plain old 5. I only got teased even more for not even trying to socialize  with anyone. That’s when I saw someone flip my lunch off of the table. “Why don’t you get a life, you douchebag,” said Skylar. I felt my anger bubble up to the maximum point. “Like you have one either, you fuck weed. Why don’t you go pick on someone else who is actually in the mood you… you… TÚ PUTA!” I screamed that in Spanish as I grabbed my things and walked out of the cafeteria. I headed off to math class early instead of waiting for the bell. It just ended my misery.
I decided to walk home instead of taking the bus. I hated taking the bus home. I texted my mom that I was going to study at the library for a bit. Once I knew that she was absolutely okay with it, I went to the library to look around for a bit.
I headed back home at about 6:30. I felt the wind blow through my long, blonde hair. I still wanted to dye it black at the time. I was cut off from my thoughts when I heard footsteps coming closer towards me. I picked up the pace the closer the noises got. I was practically running at this point. I ran through an alley, hoping to throw the person off. I was stopped by a wall blocking my only way to escape from whatever or whoever was harassing me. The worse part was, it was pitch black because this happened in the middle of December. Corny, I know, but this happens to many people. I just happened to be one of those people that this happened to. I turned around to see none other than the devil’s apprentice herself. Skylar Bartow. I backed up as far as I could, because I saw that she had a pocket knife. She came closer and closer to me. I tried to dash past her quickly, but she pushed me back against the wall. “Listen here you little shit. I don’t like what you called me before. And for that,” she said with a smirk, “You’re going to pay.” She raised the pocket knife. I was about to scream when she covered my mouth and held the knife against my throat. “Ah, ah, ah. Can’t ruin my fun early,” she said. I gulped and closed my eyes, waiting to let what’s going to happen, happen. I grasped onto my throat feeling a warm substance trickling down it and onto my hands. My olive green eyes shot open as wide as possible and I chocked on my blood. It was sickening to me. Being so helpless and weak. I started to cry. It wasn’t normal tears though. I saw them run down my cheeks and drip off my face. It was made out of my blood. The last thing I remember was Skylar chuckling darkly as I lost consciousness and took my last breathe.
I woke up, gasping for air. I found myself still in the alley way. But, I felt… different. I saw my reflection in a puddle. I looked so different than how I was. I had milk white skin. My hair was stained fully pink due to the dried blood. Around my eyes were red. Blood, red. My eyelashes were stained with dried blood clots which made it look like around eyes, were black. My eye color changed from olive green to jet black. My cheeks were stained with crimson tears. I tried to wipe it off, but it stayed there. It was permanently stuck on my face. I sighed and walked off. I realized that I couldn’t go out in public looking like this. I snuck around, keeping my new self hidden from plain sight. looked at my old home that I cant go back to. I saw a mourning picture of me, and I realized what had happened. I was murdered, but I was damned back into my body with different looks.  I thought for a few minutes about what I should do. I smirked as I came up with the most perfect plan. I’m going to get revenge on the bitch who made me who I am. And what better way to do it, then returning her the favor.  I snuck into my old house. grabbing the largest kitchen knife I could find and my hidden pocket knife just incase. I snuck back out and hid in the shadows until the time came to get my revenge. I waited at 64 Bucket Lane until she got home.
It was about 12:00 when she decided to fall asleep. Everyone else in her house was also asleep. I broke in and snuck into her room, waiting for her to slowly wake up.

she woke up at about 1:30. She slowly opened her eyes. I put my hand over her mouth so she couldn’t scream for help. Something was different. Usually, she could easily overpower me. But, no matter how much she tried, it wouldn’t work. I held her down and raised my knife. Her greyish blue eyes widened in shock and terror. I laughed darkly. “Sweet dreams,” I said and smirked. “But even sweeter nightmares.” I laughed darkly and stabbed her in the heart.
again, stabbing her in her jugular. I watched as she choked on her blood, just like I did. It… amused me. As she took her last few, dying breathes, I whispered, “I hope your nightmares are just as beautiful as me, Skylar. The one you killed.” I left quickly, leaving no trace or recollection the I was ever there.
It was all over the news. Everyone was “mourning” over that son of a bitch. I could see it in their eyes though. No one really did care about her death. Most of them were still mourning about my death/ strange disappearance. Even though, I’m still here. Watching over the few I actually care for. Making sure they make it out alright.
I felt something within me snap that night though. The night I had murdered her. I felt my insanity snap and slowly turn to insanity. I never did stop killing. And I never will. And, if you’re lucky…

You’ll be next

“Sweet dreams… but even sweeter nightmares.
…I hope they’re just as beautiful as me, my new victim.”

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3 Comments

  1. This sounds a bit like the plot from the movie “The crow”. Congrats…..you just ripped off “The crow”

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  2. Insanity snap and slowly turn to insanity…read that back to yourself and tell me does that make sense?

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  3. What’s with the sudden spanish?

    You shouldn’t have to use it in a pasta written in English, because one out of three things is bound to happen.

    1. We’ll have to search up the meaning (because you didn’t provide the definition), suddenly yanking us away from the story.

    2. We’ll try to ignore it, but as we read the rest of the pasta, it’ll just gnaw at us, making us uncomfortable.

    3. We’ll know what it means, but still wonder why you tossed in some random spanish.

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