"Run Brea! Run! Come on Brea we're almost there! Almost! Brea! BREA NO!"
Jennifer screamed as she sat up in her bed. Holding her hand to her aching hand, she pushed her sky blue blankets from her sweaty legs.
It was a nightmare.
She looked at her alarm clock, it was 1 AM. Jennifer rubbed her eyes sleepily. She wanted to sleep. Oh, she wanted to sleep. But she knew, that nightmare, bad dream. Whatever you call it. IT would come back.
She had been suffering this for about 2months now. Right after her 13th birthday. AS she did everytime she had these nightmares, she picked up her journal (not a diary) and wrote down her dream. Well- not write.
Draw.
She flipped thru her book. She was almost out of paper. The drawings. Disturbing. Horrifying. Down right scary.
She took out her chalk and pastels. The paper she drew on was black. Everytime she looked at one picture. Even if she drew it a year ago. She could remember all of the details. All the pain the torture. She felt what she saw. She knew what she saw. She sketched and sketched. Every line every curve. It had to be perfect. Every color, every shade. It had to be percise.
By the time she was done, it was 3o clock AM. It was safe to go back to sleep. IT was like the nightmares were locked in the book. No longer in her head. Her pillow felt softer than usual. She felt more tired to usual.
As she drifted to sleep. Her eyelashes fluttering, she saw death.
