The Beginning of a Nightmare

Sitting under an oak tree with a broken leg, I couldn’t move. The wind started to blow and the leaves were like little fairies dancing around me. ‘Twas, paradoxically, a beautiful horror scene that would be wonderful if it wasn’t tragic. That beast wouldn’t take its eyes of me. I wish Ann were alive; her cold hands were strongly tied up to mine and, even dead, she was looking after me. Was it just a nightmare? Yes… My mother came into my room and started to caress my face; her hands felt warm, clammy and stank like rotten meat. NO!!!!

Stepheson Emmanuel