Hounded by Imagination's scourge

I can remember the days when my dreams used to be private. I can remember times past when I could leave my nightmares simply by waking up. I can remember when dreams were just dreams, nightmares were just nightmares and the idea of them becoming real was just that - an idea. Can you imagine a world where your dreams, your nightmares are all real? I wish I could. I wish I could just imagine.

You see, my world, is that world, but something’s gone wrong. Every waking moment, and every resting moment come to mention it, is filled with demons, nightmares and sometimes not even your own. They follow you around like some little lost puppy, a corrupted vision that you once had, hounding you every moment of every day. My father went insane. My mother, she never stops crying. My brother is always raging, ranting and not calm like he was. My sister? She ran away years ago and I haven‘t seen her since… She could be dead for all I know. As for me? I’m bitter and strangely quiet about the whole thing. That was until now.

I know what you’re thinking. What happened to our dreams? Where did they go?

Sometimes I think they just ceased to exist, that they just shattered into so many tiny pieces that we have no hope of ever finding them again. I do know what happened though. He stole them. He stole them all and locked them away, gorging on them and ruling over us, the King of Demons, the most hated and loathed of all. Sitting up there in his castle so mighty, casting his orders and not caring about the people. He couldn’t care less if we broke our backs working his mines, ran ourselves ragged tilling the fields or killed each other from the madness and torment we endure. He doesn’t care as long as his table groans underneath the weight of food and that his most prized dessert, our dreams, sits centre piece on his table, ready to be consumed by his ever expanding darkness.

He stole our dreams away from us and its about time we took them back.

The End

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