True story.
I'm kinda scared now ever since I got this nightmare yesterday.
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Yesterday I dreamt that I was running away.
Running away from? No clue.
Running to? No idea where.
I was running on a mountain.
A mountain with the width that could only hold my two bruised feet.
I ran.
A mountain’s height as if it’s from heaven to hell.
I ran faster.
The mountain’s width became thinner and thinner.
And finally the mountain’s ground broke.
I held on to the mountain with all the strength I had.
A young woman in her mid 20’s watched me.
She just stood there.
Emotionless.
Soon, the mountain broke loose.
I fell.
Falling into the never ending place.
God knows where gravity is bringing me to.
Soon, I saw flames.
Burning red-orange flames but yet,
I felt no heat.
I was still falling.
Falling.
Still falling.
Falling.
Finally, it caught me.
Hell.
I was falling to hell’s ground.
I saw rooms.
Rooms who belonged to people: the prisoner’s of hell.
Suddenly, someone grabbed me and pulled me into their room.
It was an old woman.
She looked familiar.
Her eyes.
Her brown hazel eyes.
It resembled my grandmother.
Later, I learned that she was my great great grandmother.
She grabbed both my shoulders.
She told me
She’s giving me her life.
A second chance for me to live.
A second chance.
“Live it well.”
As soon as she closed her innocent wrinkled eyes,
I woke up.
