Christmas Morning

I'm Dreaming Of A White Christmas

I'm fairly sure that waking up from over four nightmares in one night is not a normal thing for girls my age. But how should I know? Maybe all thirteen year olds find it impossible to sleep because they keep dreaming of horrible icy deaths and demons and the like. Maybe that's why we're all so grumpy.

I had just woken up from yet another terrible dream, one I couldn't stop reliving as I lay shivering in my pink patterned covers. This particular nightmare was one in which I could feel my body becoming limp... And cold.... My fingers were turning black, I was covered in icy snow. And I kept telling myself to go back inside.... 'Go back inside, Emma, or you'll die out here!' But I couldn't. I was trapped in a grave. I couldn't move, much less run back into the house before I froze to death.

I was on my back in the cold shallow grave, looking up at.... Myself. But the other me had a look in her eyes that was dark and unfeeling as she stared at me, as I writhed in that icy death pit, she stared at me with a small, cruel smile. She began to shovel snow on top of me, burying me. Even now I shiver thinking about it, because in that moment, I realized that I had been doing this to myself. It was my fault I was dying in that grave.

The dream ended there, my eyes shot open with a silent scream. I sat up, and tucked my legs up to to my chin, pulling the covers around me in an attempt to warm my shivering body. The freezing of my dream-limbs was still fresh in my mind. I knew I wasn't going to be able to fall back asleep again, so I put on my robe and crept to the window.

Ah, it was snowing. "Looks like we'll be having a white Christmas after all." I murmured, and smiled despite the fact that the shadows in my room still felt menacing.