Basically we have Candice [totally changing that name!!!], who keeps having bizarre dreams, and isn't sure what to do about them. you keep discovering more about her life, which results into knowing what her dreams add up to.


It was dark. The only way to describe it, dark, like a hidden secret kept away for many years to be unfolded. Dangerous too, she felt tremors running through her body as she ran. Not knowing from what, her instincts were telling her to run. As far and as fast as she could.

She had reached a cross road, and stopped to catch her breath. Left or Right? She wasn't at all sure which way to go, she knew she couldn't go back, she saw a light flashing from the left. Maybe it was help, some sort of rescue? She just hoped as she ran.

She grew closer and the light grew stronger and bathed her in hope. For the first time in the past few hours she found faith. Then she heard it, a piercing scream, like a midnight howl left from a wolf. She suddenly realized that this piercing scream had escaped from her own breath.





Candice awoke with a gasp. Her window's shutters were banging furiously, fighting the winds rage. The lightning and thunder exploded together, never missing a beat in their devilish song. The night loomed on, it's own darkness a hidden secret, kept for many centuries.


A sharp pain hit her abdomen, as she keeled over in pain, she fought temptation to run. This was her bedroom after all, her safe haven. As the pain sub-sidded, she got up and secured the loosened shutter, and shut the window to the enraged night.  Candice was tired of these restless nights, she had woken up from similar nightmares for months now. Unable to pin point the source of the problem, she dealt. With an over extending fatigue and irritability. Drenched in her sweat she let out an exasperated sigh, and flopped onto her bed.


Maybe she would be able to find some sleep before school tomorrow. She turned to her bedside table to find the alarm clock glaring daringly back at her. It was 3:29. She turned around, and grunted her submission as she buried her head back under the pillows. As she came back and forth from her fitful sleep, she almost wished she were in a coma and didn't have to wake up at 6 am for school. The storm outside had sub-sidded and decided to leave. And as it did Candice found her sleep much more appeasing. Much like a comforting blanket, made to keep you safe, a harbor of years of love. The alarm rang now. Candy fell out of bed with a thump, landing on her bruised hip. It’s shrill shriek a beacon of despair. She checked the alarms glowing numbers, 5:00 am. On the dot. She knew she'd regret this decision later, but she couldn't care less. She needed some kind of sleep as little as it may be.

Her mum shouldn't be home for another 3 hours anyways, she had plenty of time left. Then it was decided, she would sleep in and comply with all repercussions. For some reason she slept better knowing her mother was coming home soon. She slammed the snooze button maybe a little to hard, and carefully curled herself up into a ball on the floor, not daring to move any of her aching muscles.


The light had begun to rise in the East. Basking it's glow onto every object in the room. The worn out running shoes, the pile of dirty and clean clothes on the floor, the viles of makeup and perfume on her dresser. Pictures from her past, her father standing proud with the new baby girl in his arms, her first dance class. Medals and trophies collected dust on a shelf she rarely looked at. It's own existence merely a speck in her life.

It was 6:30, Candice woke up this time feeling disoriented. She stumbled over to her dresser and pulled out some fresh clean clothes, and her bathroom necessities. She showered and dressed, did her make up and hair.


She went down the hall to the miniature kitchen, and started preparing her breakfast. Eggs and bacon toast with chocolate milk. For her mother, bacon and home fries were cooked and cooled off. Left to be found on the top shelf in the fridge. It was now 8:00, she had to leave to pick up Taylor.

The End

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