So this is an essay I had to write for English class, practicing descriptive writing. It is about a nightmare I had when I was about 8 years old. Really appreciate reviews and suggestions!
A dark room. I have no idea how I got there, or where I am. Surprisingly though, I’m not scared. Even though I can’t feel my body, I can’t even see it. I know it’s there though. This feeling...I feel like I am drifting in an ocean of blackness, the waves gently rocking me. Suddenly I stop floating. I am laying on something hard. I can’t feel what kind of material it is, I can’t feel if it is cold or warm. I cannot feel.
A loud noise, and a bright spotlight comes on. I blink, adjusting my eyes to the sudden brightness. Fear is starting to grip me now, wrapping around me like a fist. My head moves up a little, and I am fixated on the spotlight though. I can’t look away, even though I want to. There is a girl standing in the spotlight, short brown hair, blue shorts, brown shoes, a pink jacket. Her glasses have dark lenses and the frames are spotted, like a leopard. She stands directly in the center of the spotlight. The dust beams dance around her like little fairies. I do not know how I know, but somehow, I know the girl is blind.
I hear a grunt to my side and turn my head. A very pale man, dressed all in black is pulling himself along on his stomach. There is a knife in his side, and he is crawling straight towards the girl. I am terrified now, but I can’t move. I feel it very strongly, this man is evil. Very evil. I know that this is his dream, and I am trapped inside. A memory hits me. The girl is slowly dying because of him, so why his he dreaming about her? Why is he the one with a knife in his side?
I jump at the sound of the girls voice. She says it again. “Get up.”
The man looks at her, I can clearly see the hatred battling with the fact that he needs help. Why is she helping him though? He tried to kill her! She speaks again.
“Jake, get up. You can do it. I know you can.”
Jake looks up at the girl. He is sweating with the effort. He shakes his head, almost crying.
“I can’t. I can’t get up.”
Somehow, I know that this girl is important to him, and yet he hates her with every fiber of his being. I am so scared now, all I can do is listen and hope neither one will notice me. The girl is still talking, repeating the same words. I feel his annoyance start to build. With a scream of pain and annoyance, he stands up, staggers forward a little, clutches at the knife in his side. He did it. He stood. The girl smiles at him and he says her name.
Everything goes black, and I hear screaming. My eyes fly open and I realize the screaming is mine. I just had a nightmare.