Diana had been struggling with her identity and sense of place since she was young, but she had done some digging up on her families whereabouts - and it turned out to not be what she was hoping for. Too deep in this world of torture and murder, she...
I was at a funeral crying, but I didn't know who I was crying for.
I looked around me and it seemed like everyone there-- apart from me-- had no head but they were all laughing. That was when I noticed a woman. This woman wore full white but her face looked blurry. As she came closer, the tears became too hard to contain. Her tears flowed like a river, quickly, rapidly, never-ending...
She was screaming and running closer to the hole l, the death hole. She stopped right at the edge. Now she was next to me. Her face suddenly dried up, not a sight of a tear on her cheeks. She looked straight at me; laughing; and her face was more distinct; clearer and more familiar. She pushed me into this death hole. The pain, the misery never-ending, just like the hole I was mercilessly pushed into.
Luckily it was all a nightmare.
A nightmare which always repeated itself. This nightmare always appeared on the same day every year, usually very vividly but I still remember all of them. For some reason every year, every nightmare, the crying woman wore a different coloured dress. They all ended with me falling into the hole
But this year different.
Something had changed... something different, more dangerous than the last. The nightmare was different.
As soon as the girl was next to me. She glared and two more girls came to the spot. They pushed us both into the hole. The girl in white started laughing. The brushed laugh was scary.
She started moving closer. Her eyes and dress changing into a cyan green. She whispered into my ear;
The beast is approaching The end shall be near Please run away from your hell Which you call home my dear
Now wake up before they come for you! Wake up
I woke up...
And the nightmare was different...
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