Short stories

Was It All A Dream

I woke up to the sound of birds chirping outside my window. It was a beautiful morning, the sun shining through the curtains, casting a warm glow in my bedroom. I stretched and yawned, feeling refreshed and ready for the day ahead.

I got out of bed and made my way to the bathroom to brush my teeth. As I stood in front of the mirror, I froze in shock at the reflection staring back at me. It was not my own face that I saw, but that of a woman with a horribly disfigured visage. Her skin was mottled and scarred, her eyes sunken and empty. I gasped in horror, unable to comprehend what I was seeing.

I blinked and shook my head, thinking it must be a trick of the light or a bizarre dream. But when I looked back at the mirror, the woman's face remained, twisted and grotesque. Panic rose in my chest as I touched my own face, feeling the smooth skin beneath my fingertips. I was still me, but the reflection did not match.

I stumbled back from the mirror, my heart pounding in my chest. I had to be dreaming, I thought desperately. This couldn't be real. But as I turned to leave the bathroom, the woman's face followed me, her twisted features mirroring my every movement.

I fled from the bathroom, mind racing with fear and confusion. What was happening to me? Was this some kind of nightmare? I tried to calm myself down, telling myself it was just a hallucination, a trick of my mind. But deep down, I knew it was something more sinister.

I made my way to the kitchen, hoping a cup of coffee would help clear my head. But as I reached for the coffee pot, a searing pain shot through my body. I cried out in agony, dropping to the floor as darkness closed in around me.

When I opened my eyes, I was no longer in my kitchen. I was suspended upside down in a dimly lit room, the smell of decay and mold filling my nostrils. Panic gripped me as I struggled against my restraints, my mind racing with fear.

I heard a low, guttural growl coming from the shadows, and my blood ran cold. Something was in the room with me, something dangerous and malevolent. I tried to scream for help, but my voice was choked off by the force of my terror.

As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I saw movement in the corner of the room. A figure emerged from the shadows, its form twisted and contorted. It moved towards me with a slow, deliberate gait, its eyes gleaming with malice.

I tried to make sense of what I was seeing, but the horror of the situation overwhelmed me. The figure reached out a hand towards me, its fingers long and claw-like. I closed my eyes, praying for it to be a nightmare, a hallucination brought on by fear.

But when I opened my eyes again, the figure was still there, its grotesque face leering inches from mine. I could smell the putrid stench of death on its breath, feel the cold chill of its touch against my skin.

I screamed in terror, thrashing against my restraints as the figure drew closer. I knew in that moment that this was not a dream, not a trick of my mind. This was real, and whatever was before me was intent on causing me harm.

I closed my eyes and prayed for salvation, for deliverance from this nightmare. And in that moment of despair, I felt a sudden rush of warmth surround me. Light flooded the room, banishing the darkness and the figure with it.

When I opened my eyes, I was back in my bed, the sun shining through the curtains once more. I lay there, shaking and covered in sweat, trying to make sense of what had just happened. Was it all a dream? A hallucination brought on by stress?

I looked in the mirror, half-afraid of what I might see. But this time, my own reflection greeted me, my face staring back, unblemished and whole. I let out a shaky breath, relief flooding through me.

As I got out of bed and made my way to the bathroom, I couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the back of my mind. The events of that morning would haunt me for years to come, a reminder that sometimes the horrors of our own minds can be more terrifying than anything we could ever imagine.