Dreams I Had

4. Satan's Searching For Me!

Yes, hello.

Hi there.

Did you miss me?

No?

Well f*** you then.

This is another one of those four-year old dreams. You have been warned.

I was running. I didn't know where, I didn't know when, but I did know why. Satan was chasing me.

And he still had that damn goatee.

I was running along this dark corridor, which seemed to have no end. But it opened up into this really big kitchen with a million shelves and cupboards. I heard him coming and I started freaking the ef out.

The kitchen was a dead-end. And I couldn't just go up to him, all giddy and happy like, "Hey dude, wanna have tea together? Yeah, good, just don't poison me, 'kay? 'Kay bruh, we're cool right? You cool. I cool. We cool. Cool horns, by the way," and then fistbump. It doesn't work like that.

I was running from him for a damn good reason. BECAUSE HE'S SATAN FOR CRYING OUT LOUD.

I didn't have anywhere to go, except.... OF COURSE!

I yanked open a cupboard and skedaddled in, shutting the door behind me. I don't know how I could breathe in such a cramped area, but I managed to do it.

Somehow I managed to lock the door from the inside of the cupboard and calmed down. There was no way he could get to me now.

I held my breath. I could hear his footsteps in the kitchen, as he rummaged through random drawers.

That's when I heard it. CREAK. CRACK. CRUCK. CUR-CUCKLE. It sounded like a frikkin mariachi band. Nah, I'm joking. It sounded like wood breaking.

WAIT WHAT?!

I turned around and the whole wall opposite the door was breaking. THE DAMN WALL WAS BREAKING!! WHAT THE FROOFLES!?

The wood broke away and the devil poked his head in, "boo."

And I freaked the holy bananas out of me. Not literally. I did not wake up to find out that I managed to vomit bananas in my sleep.

But I did wake up though.

And thank god.

But I can never look at goatees the same way again.