sábado, 14 de mayo de 2011


Hey! Usually I don't write dreams in notebooks or anything like that, but today I had an incredibly long nightmare. Also, it was kind of coherent, almost like a film, except for a few details.

It was Sunday. I know it because my aunt, uncle and cousin were at home for lunch. I was in the kitchen with my cousin when I looked out of the window and saw three little girls in the street, in front of the garden door, dressed in a uniform dress from a school I couldn't identify and looking inside the garden. I didn't say anything because I was used to children standing there looking at our cats, even though those girls seemed to be looking at the kitchen window instead. Nevertheless, a white old model car stopped behind the girls and a man wearing a gabardine came out, pushed the girls in it and drove away.

Later, at late evening, it was only my parents and me in the house. I looked out of the kitchen window and the girls were there again, but then the same car came and the scene from that afternoon happened again. After I took a glass of water, I went into the living room and saw the newspaper in the sofa. I took it and saw in the first page a photo of the three little girls. It was an article telling about the disappearance of three girls 40 years before and a recent investigation which proved that they were kidnaped.

Obviously, I freaked out. I went into the kitchen again, and saw my parents were there, my mother cooking dinner, so I explained everything that had happened. My father stayed silent, but my mother got angry at me – not quite sure why – and said that it was impossible that those were the same girls, it had passed 40 years! Then, suddenly it was raining heavily, and, as we heard a deafening thunder, the lights blacked out and a sudden steam misted the window. Next, we heard the sound of someone pressing a finger in the glass and sliding it against the window and, indeed, a mark appeared in it. I was paralyzed with fear, but my mother ignored it, denying that something paranormal was happening. She glared at my father and said, “well, aren't you going to start the lights again?” but he only answered with a look that said, “if you really want to pretend nothing is happening, why don't you do it yourself?” So she went and turned on the lights. When she came back I could tell by her expression that she was starting to accept everything that I had told them. The window was still a little misty and the line the finger had made, still visible.

My father and I moved to the living room. There, my father pointed out something under the sofa: there was a tiny stream of blood coming from under it. As we looked, the blood started to retreat until it disappeared, then came out from under the sofa again and repeated the same process. But when we pushed the sofa away, there was nothing there. We looked at each other, not knowing what to make of it.

After a few minutes, we started to dinner while we watched a black and white movie on the TV. We didn't discuss what was happening, first, because we wanted things to go back to normal and, secondly, because we didn't really know what was going on.

"There is no snooze button on a cat who wants breakfast."  ~Author Unknown

1 comentario:

  1. It was really interesting reading your story. Thank you for sharing.