"Shhh! Do not make a sound.. or I won't refrain myself to tie you up!" His grip on my wrist tightens.
I need to get my book from him, in which I wrote all of my erotic fantasies.
Fantasies that he is slowly turning real in his evil ways.
It's like...
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Ryan Damison
Hallucination, an experience involving the apparent perception of something that is not present or happening.
It is a hallucination, right?
I roughly massage and kneed my eyes then again look at the site. But the delusion in my vision didn't change. Dakota is still Dakota and blue hair is still blue clutched tightly in his fists.
It is definitely an illusion. It has to be.
There must be something in that dog food.
My pulse swells the more I see him and hear the wet noises coming from them. All that rage rise up in my head faster than magma and just as destructive. I could feel my muscles expanding, shirt tearing off my shoulders and my skin turning green.
Even if this is a damn illusion, I would never let Dakota get a head from anyone who has blue hair. Not even if it is Daniel dressed up as a hot chick.
No blue hair can give heads to him. Not even in my hallucinations.
With a war in my mind, my tipsy feet stride towards him. The more I walk closer, the clearer my vision gets. I could feel my fist smashing into his nose, splattering red blood on walls making them dirty with his blood.
I have never hated anyone more than Dakota in my life. He is like a jealous chihuahua who wants to eat everything where my tongue has been.
"Hey... You fucker!" I growl in anger as I lift my fist and smash right on his face, but my hand swings in the air hitting nothing. Nada.
I look up and see he is still three feet away, getting a head while looking straight at me as if I am on crack. This fueled me more. I grab the illusion girl's neck and forcefully pull her away from his claws. My heart beats like a concert as dilated hazel eyes meet mine.
"Amara..."
How did she get in my hallucination?
She blissfully smiles at me as the long rope of drool drips from her lips to her breast. Her breast. I stay paralyze for a moment as I see a fresh pair of lady boobies hiding behind the black dress.
Suddenly out of nowhere, she grabs my belt and bends down to my hips burping loudly. I couldn't comprehend what is going on. In an instance, I feel wet. Very well. I look down and see my jeans and shoes drenched in orange and brown liquid that smells of rotten onions and ass.
Did she just vomit on my shoes? My VERSACE SHOES???
My clothes stink of awful smell as if I am marinated in her puke. I look up and see Dakota sheepishly scratching his head, his white shirt has the same orange, brown vomit pattern that is newly created on my jeans.
