SCENE SEVEN. dreams are not reality.

993 24 0
                                    

"piper." it called again. the dream around her seems to fade away. the image of them at the lake getting darker. the smell of suncream, the feeling of the hot sun. it turned to nothing. a burning smell tickling at her nose. finding herself stood on a road. facing someone. an unfamiliar yet familiar face. maybe someone from school. and a car, one that was tipped over and smoke spitting out. flames flickering through the windows.


















tick




















"fred." a voice called, she watched as a figure appeared from the smoke of the car. a figure that resembled the same one that talked to her last summer in her trances. the same one from the window.


















tick












"i want you... to join me." but he didn't seem to be talking to fred. no. sure he was looking at fred. and walking up to fred who's eyes had rolled into the back of his head. but he was talking to her, the ringing in her head. it was all so real, all so familiar. he began to float, lifting upwards into the air. as if he were nothing but a balloon.














tick










and she forced herself to look away as his bones began to crack. hearing the body smack against the floor as she screamed.
























and the chime rang out.















only to find herself back in her bed, covered in cold sweat as she ripped the sheets off. the tingle on her hips as she sighed in relief. just a dream. just a bad dream.

𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙧𝙮 𝙥𝙤𝙥! 𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙫𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙩𝙤𝙣Where stories live. Discover now