Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2283373-The-Nightmare
by Anna
Rated: E · Short Story · Horror/Scary · #2283373
A young girl gets up from a nightmare wondering if it was real. Then finds out the truth..
I woke up. Startled. Panting and clutching my chest. I could feel sweat dripping freely off of my face. The nightmare I had. Was the same as before.

It always started with a knock at the door. I get up and walk along the hallway that seemed like it would never end. Once I finally reach the door, I twist the knob and pull it quickly. I remove my glasses, seeing who it was slammed the door as fast as I could. It was her. Her curly hair reaching below her shoulders, waving and her fangs sitting unruly on her lip. The most terrifying feature of her. Were her eyes. Big. Round. Bloody. I run. The hallway never ends. I keep running. My glasses drop to the floor. I keep running. And running. And running.

I can't believe it. She's stood in front of me. Same hair. Same clothes. Same eyes.


"Hush dear."


"You knew it was going to happen." Her voice is soft, but behind her calming voice, is the horrifying vampire she truly is.

The evil that runs through her blood is not the same as mine. Her blood has changed.


"Come on... come with me."

My mind switches to my mum. Hair tied back with a pencil. Bright clothes. I walk towards her.

"Yes, dear come here." I walk, her voice sounds like my mother. The mother before the vampire. The mother before that night. They said it was a car crash. But she's here. She's no longer my mother, the one I used to love hugging. She's now cold. No longer the mother I used to know.

Just when she's about to bite my neck. I then woke up. I get of my bed. My head hurts. I rub my neck. I look in the mirror. A bite mark is on my neck and as I look back into the mirror, I see my mother's reflection smiling at me her arms are crossed and her long black flowy dress sits neatly on the floor and that's when she says:

"Your too strong little one, maybe next time."

I blink and she's gone.

I repeat her words: "...maybe next time."
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