A sudden surge of electricity jolts her petite body upright. Cold tears stain her face and glisten like diamonds against her pale white skin, a tiny snowflake lost againt the harsh grey mountains.
Her ribs feels as though they might be bruised as her frightened heart pounds relentlessly against her feather-light rib cage. It takes her eyes a while to adjust to an overwhelming darkness at first that seems to be waging war against the light. At last her eyes adapt, just like a teenager trying to fit in with the "cool" crowd. She identifies her surroundings as her bedroom. Cold grey walls greet her with lifelessness and a hard tiled floor littered with socks, shoes and silk reminds her of the late night.
Memories of alcohol, boys, alcohol, music, alcohol and more alcohol fall into place in her spinning mind. Her feet begin to throb as her eyes pass over the 10 inch stilettos that were a good idea before 9pm.
Her small body slides back inside the warm, comforting duvet wrapped around her and a peaceful breeze whispers through her room enticing her back to a world where her subconsciousness will be king.
Less than a fraction of a sigh escapes her mouth when her mind begins to call her name. She sees the reason for her ungodly wake up call unfold in her mind and it ain't pretty.
The nightmares had started about a week ago and every night they plague her. Taunting her, tormenting her and torturing her with their nasty voices that call in the night. Some nights she wakes up shaking, completely devoid of sanity and control. Other nights her soaking pillows serve as a reminder of the wet tears of fear these nightly performances provide, but one thing is for certain. She will be woken.
Images of bodies. Halves of bodies crawling towards her appear behind her eyes, like the quick flashes of Hollywood paparazzi. Blindingly and then blind in an instant. Eyes devoid of souls, hands outstretched towards her replay, and replay and replay. Blood stains her floor and nails scratch at the tiles, like animals in captivity, as the monsters approach her bed, eyes constantly fixed on her. The prize. The meal. The main attraction.
Shivers race through her body as she sinks lower into her bedding trying to hide from her mind but the one person you can't escape is yourself. Cold sweats dampen the air and a fleeing heart rate doesn't make her feel any more comfortable.
"It's just a nightmare. That's all. A nightmare." She tries to convince herself in a strong authoritative voice, a voice that's trembling in fear.
Overcome by night the room snarls at her from dark corners and growls at her from over sized bookcases and wardrobes. The colour scheme of night, grey black and charcoal, attempts to convince her of evil. They try to persuade her to come out and play.
Tonight, even the moon has a sinister smile painted red across his face.
Tears streak her cheeks with silver and her heart shows no mercy for her delicate torso. The blood rushing through her ears sounds powerful and pronounced and installs a grave boldness inside her until a scratch at her door sends her tiny frame straight up. The fear like a bolt of energy running along her skin.
"It was all just a dream..." Her tiny voice seemingly echoes through her moonlight room.
"Or was it?"
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