I bolt upright. My chest heaves. My lungs contract, and my heart rate pounds against the plain sheets. My face is drenched in sweat. The sheets clench and unclench between my fists. I feel terrified. All of the dark shapes surrounding me make me shiver. They all resemble the object- swift, lethal, disgusting. Indescribable.
I look over at the clock. 1:40 am.
Just a dream. It was just a dream. But it felt so real? I was hyperventilating, I couldn't breathe. I was dying.
Have you ever had that feeling where you have the words on the tip of your tongue, and you just about say them allowed when you realize that you have no idea what they are?
The dream was gone.
No. No. No, no, no, no! It can't be gone! Where did it go?
I want to throw something. I stand up and almost tip over. I feel nauseous. Why am I nauseous? My head throbs, and I feel like my insides might become my outsides. What is going on?
I scrunch my eyes tight and imagine the ship, my reflection, the...... the waves outside. I run through the images in my mind, and they become more and more distant and unfocused. I clench my fists tighter and tighter. My nails bite into my palms like little knives. What dream?
I look over at the clock. 1:45.
"Might as well try to get some sleep," I mumble as I tuck myself away under the covers, wishing I could listen to the waves outside and feel the ocean breeze like back at home.
YOU ARE READING
A World of Colors
Short StoryA high school girl's life is drastically changed. With no friends, no decent family within the country, and no hope, how will she make it? Especially when life continues to target her in every possible way.
