Ariana tossed and turned in her bed; it seemed even the most comforting place in the world was deemed useless against a nightmare. She turned to her side, with one leg bent and one arm over her face. That was her favourite sleeping position.
Sweat beads accumulated on her forehead dripping down ever so often. The heat of the sweat left red trails down the side of her face. Her chest tightened and she breathed in irregular paces, sweat mixing to form an odd concoction with her salty tears.
Nightmares.
The darkness of the night only added to their glowing faces. As she turned, the faces of her friends twisted into horrifying shapes and inhumane feature appeared. She watched in terror as the numbers of faces multiplied. Ariana ran,scratched and screamed. The pitiful girl sat alone, crying.
As we all know, there is no running from a nightmare.
YOU ARE READING
Her Other Figure
SpiritualThis story is about a young teenage that is always sucked into her dream world. She faces the struggles of every teenager, wondering about all of the unanswerable things in life as her story begins.
