Perfect Nightmare-My Side of the Story

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I read it so much, I visualized too hard, it became so real that I became a character in the Perfect Nightmare by John Saul, the only difference; it became my nightmare and it was not perfect at all. It was exactly what it was, a nightmare, my nightmare.
He was watching me, I felt him more than saw him, his eyes were boring two very big holes into my not so flat chest. I looked around, nervously, carefully but I couldn’t see him like I knew I wouldn’t.
I had put the last of the packed boxes into the bus we were going to use to transport all our belongings to our new house. I was happy moments ago but not so much anymore.
I wished for the hundredth time that I had followed the family for dinner rather than feign illness to read a novel that was suddenly turning out to be real and was playing out in my own life!!
I shuddered at the thought of anyone in the shadows and hastened my steps to the front door and practically banged the door shut before finally locking it. I rested my back against the door as hot tears started stinging the side of my eyes.
Of course I was being foolish, nobody was out there, I tried to calm myself with that but it was pointless, I was scared to hell and back. I thought of calling my parents but to say what exactly? That I had felt someone looking at me? Mum would have hissed and given a lecture about how I had to grow up.
I stood up with a start, I had heard something, I tensed visibly,the tears now shamelessly flowing. I took tiny,timid baby steps to the stairs,climbing cautiously, carefully, my heart was pounding without rhythm. Eventually, I got to my room door and stood outside it to hear anything and then I heard it. Shattering of a window pane and it was to my left,my sister’s room. Oh no!!!! He was entering the house, he was going to kill me!
I ran into my room,locked the door and the windows, I was beyond hysterical, I was shaking visibly,tears and mucous forming a messy puddle at the top of my shirt. I ran the length of my room severally thinking of where to hide,under the bed was too small to hide me, the curtain was too transparent, the table was too open. Finally I settled on the medium sized cupboard, I would think about the cramps if I do not die first. I heard his footsteps now,it was so close, he knows my room!! He is coming to get me!! I all but ran into the cupboard and squeezed my whole existence into the tiny space, determined not to make any noise, but the trembling of my body was shaking the doors of the cupboard, I tried to stop but I couldn’t.
Suddenly, I stilled,he was in my room. My head was a practical turmoil, I was sure, no dead sure I locked the door. No!!! He has a key to my room!! I was certain, I was going to die,my life started flashing before my eyes, quick disorderly and haphazard flashes. He was pacing in my room,he was trying to find me, he would see me,of course he will,I was trembling so hard.
Finally the cupboard door opened, I tried to force it close but he was struggling with me. I gave up,I had to conserve my strength for whatever lies ahead. I let him open the door, I heard a tiny whisper, I looked up.
My mouth wide open, I came out and wrapped my arms around my kid sister and in that moment I felt so foolish, there was no one inside the house,it was just my sister.
I had totally forgotten she was in the house,she had been sleeping and the shattering of the window pane was probably her book shelf falling to the window again. After all we were leaving the house with all its ills . I cradled her almost tightly in my arms.
I heard another sound,it came from my doorway,I looked quickly, the fear all but gone came flooding back. It was a masked man, totally clothed in black, he was wielding a machete and walking slowly and purposefully towards us,I kept moving backwards till I felt my back against the wall. He was right in front of me, his machete raised high above me, ready to strike.
I screamed with all the shaky strength I could muster and then I woke up, still screaming. The words “Perfect Nightmare” was staring right at me from the front cover of the novel on my bed, I threw it to the floor and wrapped the bed covers tightly around myself whispering”there is no perfect nightmare, there is nothing perfect about a nightmare” till the warm arms of sleep enveloped me.

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