It's early in the morning, but I just thought I'd write something quick and simple right now. I'm sure school will be nice; it always is on Tuesdays.
***
I got home and saw my dead dog lying sprawled on the front lawn with blood splattered on his coat like someone threw crimson paint on his body. I'm sure I was just imagining things, but I think I saw one of his organs trying to peer into the outside world. Ants and maggots and a million other insects were devouring the animal's corpse; it was an ice cream sundae -- complete with blood (chocolate) syrup.
I couldn't believe what I was seeing! How could this possibly have happened?! I tried to remember my street; I lived in a relatively middle-sized neighborhood, but I was certain the killer lived on my street. My first instincts have never been wrong before. As I walked down my street to help speed my memories, none of the owners or pets they have fit the description of a killer. However, I hear a rocking chair near the end of the street, so I decide to turn the corner. I figure it's probably an old lady, but I still get a little curious and decide to check it out.
Sitting on a rocking chair, laughing hysterically to himself, is a boy that looks around my age. He's bent over from laughing, so I can't really see what he looks like. I walk towards him, and he hears me and looks up, still grinning madly. I know this face! His face is my face! I killed my past fear, yes; however, I killed my own dog.
Suddenly, I was bleeding all over. I fell to the ground and ended up at my front lawn. My body began to grow fur, and it become exactly like the body of my dog. I am the dog; I killed myself. I felt blackness slipping upon me right before the ants and maggots and millions of other insects came to devour this free ice cream sundae.
***
Holy s**t! Talk about some serious mind-searching. There was really nothing scary about the dream, but it was extremely disturbing. I've never had suicidal thoughts in my life; my life is perfect, and I have no idea why my subconscious would be sending such cruel messages through my nightmares. The only logical explanation I can think of is my conscience is finally catching up to me, and it's getting me back for all the times I belittled people.
I hope I'll be able to sleep well tonight without receiving images from my afternoon nightmare. Wednesday better be the good Wednesday.
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