Stepping out onto the street I am greeted by the comforting, familiar sights of my neighbours moving their lawn, the mailman delivering my morning paper and my roommate, Kyle, still passed out on the front law from last night.
This is a welcome contrast to the night terrors I had been experiencing the night before. It was a night full of faceless creatures; disturbing, old, run down houses; and a raspy, deep voice that sent a chill down my spine. I would wake up, full of relief that the night was over, walk into the kitchen seeking my morning coffee, only to find another one of the faceless creatures sitting there. Waiting. The terror would resume
This was over now though. I couldn’t believe I was thinking this, but I was actually relieved to go to the office; if only to escape the horror of last night.
My office was only two blocks away, so I walked. Passing familiar faces and friends along the way; each person I passed gave me courage; courage to face the day, courage to continue my life, but most importantly, courage to face tonight.
I used my usual key to open the usual door, climb the usual flight of stairs, walked the usual corridor and sat in my usual chair. I turned my computer on.
Checking my emails I became worried. My entire inbox was full. 30,000 emails sat there. There was not on word written in them. This by itself didn’t worry me, but there wasn’t an email address attached to any of them. The space where the email should be just read “ERROR”. I became nervous. Assuming it was just a bug, I walked down the hall to my bosses’ office, passing numerous co-workers along the way. At the end of the hall was the bosses’ office.
I knocked quietly and, not hearing a response, I entered. His office was scattered with numerous photos of his family, fishing trips and old holidays. Not seeing him in here I turned to leave when one particular photo caught my eye. It was an old photo; the case was coated in dust. It was of a cream coloured couch in front of a black background. On the couch sat a family of 4, a mother, a father, a son and a daughter. The photo itself looked newish, except for one small detail: the entire families faces were faded beyond recognition. It was as if the faces were subject to the elements, whilst the rest of the photo was sheltered. My heart skipped a beat.
Panicking, I burst out of the bosses’ office, intending to rush back to my cubicle and ponder what I had just seen, but I was stopped. Not one person was in the office. It was a ghost house. Confused, scared and shaking I trudged back to my cubicle. Sitting in my chair was the most horrifying thing I had ever seen. It looked almost human. Almost. Where it’s eyes used to be were gaping holes, it’s mouth was nothing but a stitched up scar and it drained all the light from the room. It reached out a pale, boney, nightmarish hand to me.
I woke up, shuddering. Relieved the terror was finally over…
I was told to write a story in english class about dreams. This is what i came up with.
I've been told this is the same as Inception. I haven't seen the movie yet so it is unintentional