Arts + Entertainment
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Sleep Attacks
For as long as I can remember I have had bad night experiences. My name is Asher and I’m writing these experiences down before I lose the memory holding them. The earliest experience I can remember was when I was three years old living in Kansas. I was sound asleep in my pastel blue room with my Scooby-Doo night light by the door. The little three-year-old me was all snuggled under a fish covered blanket. I don’t remember what exactly woke me from my dream, but I remember the man at my door. His shoulders were wide, and he resembled a shadow. The pure fear that flooded over me and the vulnerability I felt when I tried to move and scream but couldn’t. I felt hopeless and every night he’d get closer. The panic I felt seemed to increase each night that he would move closer. I’d always close my eyes and just wait until the sun would peek into my room.
By Alyce Crane8 years ago in Horror
The Girl with the Garden Under Her Tongue
Keep the purple lilies under your tongue, girl. The pirates are waiting with their cutlasses and forceps. The pastel red on his lapel grew out of your left ear. You think you have it rough? Your brother's beard is nothing but weeds and dandelion fluff. Mother's been begging him to shave it for the past six months. Father even polished a pair of garden shears and placed them on the bathroom counter. You both know that it won't come off as easy as sheep's wool. Every time the weed whacker is fired up, he hides in the closet as if he's being abused.
By Scott Weatherby8 years ago in Poets
