This is me
I don’t dream much, but when I do, it is either a nightmare or riding a unicorn.
It’s 4:14 am, I have just woken up from a nightmare and it is similar to American Horror Story. My family and I moved into a haunted house, but it was solely me being targeted by the ghostly (almost human) spirits. I was so horrified that I forced myself to wake up. My heart was racing, I skimmed across the darkness and mistook my bath robe as the hunchback old woman, ‘whom’ I nearly threw my phone at as I panicked.
It is said when you dream about being chased, that means you are stressed and anxious. Well, I mean, who isn’t stressed reading bizarre news everyday? Who isn’t anxious being a final year student, ‘trying to adult’ while still attempting to boil an egg? If it is likely for stressed people to be chased in their dreams, maybe serial killers, ghosts and murderers are constantly busy with their ‘dream job’ then (pardon the pun), they are probably exhausted chasing people around every night. I cannot help but imagine their conversation in the work place:
Murderer opened the ‘magical door’ (Lets say it’s like Monster.Inc, but its like Murderer.Inc). Panting, he threw his cleaver onto the floor and lied down.
“Jesus! why do they get away every time? I was soooo close!” He said.
And then the manager comes, helps the murderer up and holds his shoulders.
“Mr.Murderer. You have 15 jobs today, get in or get fired.” The manager said.
“What? 15? What is it with people? How stressed are you people?” The murderer rolls his eyes and drank water.
There is a gray door landed behind him, Mr. Serial Killer come out, also catching his breath.
“Man I am so tired, all of them are like Usain Bolt.” Murderer groans.
“…..”
Serial Killer lets out a crooked smile and breaks the silence “I hang him on the meat hook, and licked off his flesh.”
Murderer cringes and he shrugs his shoulders“Good for you, weirdo.”
A ghost appears from the door next to Murderer.
“Hey Mrs.Ghost! Did you nail them? Aw man you look exhausted!” Murderer turns to her.
She stares at him with her hollow eyes and said softly “Well, I float around most of the time so I’m not tired, really.”
Better stop here now before you click me off away from this page. I scrolled up and realised the topic is ‘This is me’, it is pretty much demonstrated above. Easily distracted, endless imagination (To be honest, I can still go on with Murderer.Inc), and — as a final year student — I would be lying if I said I have it all figured out. As I am a light sleeper with insomnia, I always squeeze in some time for my hobbies like badminton, guitar, Netflix, Netflix and Netflix to wind down my uptight nerves.
I love writing, I really do. When I was small I used to keep journals , and used to write short stories whenever I was inspired. However, as I age, the reality set in, stories I wrote and characters I created are meaningless in exams. They were thrown into the ‘Memory Dump’ like Bing Bong from Inside Out. It felt like I was on a boat without paddles, as it floated along the current, I was drifted further apart from writing. However, after all these years, here I am, jumping off the boat and swimming back to grasp the vanishing tail of writing. Once again I am back in my childhood, sitting in the classroom, opening a brown dusty notebook. I close my eyes, mute out the noisy background and slowly fade away to my fantasy world where I ride my unicorn across the limitless grass field.
Edited with thanks to Elena
