A little bit from the project i am working on called AWAKEN

A girl lays as pale and still as death on a rumpled bed like a sacrificial maiden on an alter. Milk white arms lay outstretched. Delicate hands clasped into tight fists.

Drip,drip... pearls of blood fall onto the white sheets forming ever growing pools. Ruby liquid now begins to run down the pale walls.

“Amelie, Amelie” the voice mocks.

Tears slowly seep from closed eyes. She tries to move but cold cotton sheets are tangled tightly around her trembling thin legs like tight ropes binding her. Trapping her. 

A picture starts to slowly form on the adjacent wall like from a film projector from forty years before. The image rapidly flashes from one scene of death and destruction to another. A husband is shown gently kissing his young wife as he slowly enters a sharp knife into her back. An elderly man with gnarled arthritic hands is revealed trying determinedly to light a match as he sits in his petrol soaked reclining chair. The picture flickers from one picture to another. Quicker and quicker and quicker and quicker and quicker. The images start to blur as they run and run and run.

The girl on the bed moans as the flashing lights get brighter and brighter and brighter lightening up the small room.

The blood flows faster and faster until the bed sheets seem to be soaked with it.

Drip, flash,drip,flash,drip,flash, quicker,quicker,quicker,quicker,quicker,quicker and quicker.

The girls eyes spring open while the echo of her scream still rings in her ears.

Amelie tried desperately to gasp for breath as her chest heaved rapidly and sharply. Glancing around the room with wide scared eyes she pushed her long ebony hair back from her too pale face with a trembling hand.

The dark bedroom appeared normal in the florescent glow from the electric alarm clock sitting on the scarred bedside table.

Tearing the tangled sheets from her cold legs Amelie quickly climbed out of the bed. Reaching across she clicked on her brass lamp. The bright light illuminated the mangled bedsheets. The fabric still appeared dry and white. Not a crimson flaw insight.

On shaking bare legs she walked the five steps across to the slightly open bathroom door. Amelie pulled the light cord with clammy fingers and looked at herself in the rectangle mirror above the sink. Heaving in a trembling breath Amelie released it in a trembling whisper as she gazed into the too large haunted eyes looking back at her. 

The destructive dreams had first started in her childhood.