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The Dream Journal of James

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July 7

I feel so stupid writing in this thing. Alan suggested I write a journal detailing my dreams because maybe I can find out why I'm so terrified after I wake up. Well I guess I'll end this here until I actually have a dream to log.


July 9, 3:14 AM

Eyes... Piercing black eyes. Burning deep inside, gaining complete knowledge of everything I have ever done. I felt ashamed he was just standing there, still as a statue. Unmoving. Judging me. That's all I can remember. My heart is still racing.


July 12, 4:17 AM

I was unable to move. He was closer this time, not much but still noticeable. The same piercing black eyes I know it was "him". I was unable to move, or scream as his stare burned right through every inch of my body. The burning was excruciating. I can't even describe it with words. I wanted to die. His lips were moving and I can remember his deep raspy voice but nothing else as to what his words meant. I hope this ends soon.


July 17, 3:29 AM

The smirk was unmistakeable. He was enjoying my pain. This time he was closer again, by a lot this time. He was right in my face with those impenetrable eyes not even a foot away from my head. The screaming; I shudder remembering it. I don't know if it was my own all I could concentrate on was the fire within my skull, his lips repeating the same word endlessly.



July 30, 3:17 AM

I'm not excited to write in this again. However I am glad to report that he was not there, but I was in the same room. The pain kept me from noticing it before. The smell of rust was making me sick. I tried to cover my nose but found myself bound to a vertical medical bed by the wrists, waist, neck and ankles. I began to feel the fire again as a door opened behind me. All I could hear was his deep laughter and what sounded like someone pleading to be killed. I knew I was next.

I want to be next


Aug 1, 4:03 AM

The fire isn't so bad anymore. At least I can concentrate on the dim fluorescent light as it flickers, leaving the room in momentary darkness. That is the only time I can't feel his eyes, and the fire they bring along with them. It's in that brief flash that I can relax and breathe in again. I don't even mind the smell of the blood. The blood which is dripping slowly from the gashes left from fighting the hard steel restraints, and into a bucket underneath me. Every time this dream starts the bucket is empty, made evident from the hollow noise of the metal as the first drops hit.

Why won't it end?


Aug 2, 1:13 AM

I don't even remember falling asleep this time. I was trying to stay awake. I can't sleep. It isn't safe. He's always there staring at me, always waiting for me. Staring at me with his unchanging smirk. His eyes burning me from inside. The smell. Too appealing. I know it will stop it all. I have to break the restraints. I have to get the blood back. I know it's what he wants but I can't resist it. What does this all mean?

I am begging for an end


Aug 2, 3:15 AM

The smell was gone! Where did he take the blood? I will kill him! That was my fucking blood! I have to go to sleep, I must get my revenge!


Aug 2, 12:00 PM

I found him, took my blood back, and drank his too. Sleepy. Going to bed now.


December 13

I'd forgotten entirely about this journal. Crazy how the first bit goes isn't it? I know you're reading this; you don't understand. That's okay though.

I wouldn't wish these 25 days of torture on anybody, but it's always a relief to know the true difference between dreams and reality. I think this will be my last entry. After all, this is all just a figment of my imagination.


Written by XanCrews 
Content is available under CC BY-SA

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