I found myself tossing in my sleep, I can't stand it. My dreams were so horrific; but I'll describe them for you anyway.
I was walking in a long corridor; there was no light so no shadows. I ran my hand across the cool walls a sort of slimy substance covering my hand as I walked. I screamed and the corridor broke away, letting me fall. I fell into another dark room, but a small light lit someone up in front of me. I ran toward the figure and my face lit up as I saw Luca. I tried to wrap my arms around him but he caught my arms, squeezing them tight. “Ow... Luca, you’re hurting me.” I cried, but he grinned; money appeared in his hands as he let my arms fall and he laughed, throwing it into the air as he left me. I cried for him to come back but he just left. Then I felt him grasp his head and he turned into my mum, her mind caving in under my power as I sobbed.
I woke up in a cold sweat; a scream escaping my lungs as I breathed hard to regain my breath. “Luca...” I cried to myself, turning around the room drastically as if he was there. But I was welcomed by my cool pink room, the paintings of Luca still staring at me as I searched.
A few paintings of the nearby park and forest hung up on my walls. A bookcase stood in the corner opposite my bed. The top shelf was filled with Manga books, the second with art books, the third with story books and the fourth, fifth and sixth was filled with my art books and note books. I looked at the pictures on the shelf above my bed, making sure everything was in place.
Then, I threw myself out of the bed, reaching behind my beech wood wardrobe I took out a covered piece of canvas. I looked at it absently, pulling the sheet off I looked at the black canvas board. Painted upon it was blood and gore, my mother lay dead on the floor, blood seeping from her eyes, nose and mouth. In the background I held a knife; I had drove it into her head on the picture as a piece of her skull was missing. I shivered and replaced the sheet; placing it back behind the wardrobe again.
Then I remembered who I was calling for in my sleep; “Luca!” I cried again before running downstairs in a blind panic. It was only then did I hear the music he played, I let out a breath of relief as I saw him. “Good morning, Luca.” I smiled, wiping the sweat from my forehead as I looked at him; I could sense something had happened. I had dreamt it.