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I woke up like any other day. My alarm had gone off with the first light of morning pouring into my small room reflecting off the mirror straight into my eyes…I really was in need of moving that stupid thing. And just like every other morning I was frozen with fear from the nightmare I had been having for close to three months now.
The dream was short, but it was also terrifying, a murderer would walk into my reading class and scan the room as if searching for someone in particular. The man was about 6 feet and five inches tall with dark hair and a hard face; he always had on worn-out black tennis shoes, jeans, a navy blue t-shirt, and a leather jacket. When the man would see me he’d smile, pulling his thin lips back revealing his teeth which had many gaps between some of them.
He would notice that instead of looking down at myself with worries for my own life, I would always look across the room to my friend, Ella. Now here is the odd thing about me, I have no problems with the idea of my own death; I am much more worried about my friend’s life, simply because she is the only thing that keeps me from going absolutely insane.
The man would turn and shoot my friend, grin at me, and then as if he had fulfilled his job would simply stroll out of the room with a horrid look of satisfaction upon his face. As soon as the life of my friend was fully gone I would wake up, shivering with fear, listening to the sound of my alarm clock.
I stretched out my left arm and clicked off my alarm clock on the wooden night stand next to my bed. I slipped out from under the covers and let my feet hit the cold floor. Then I walked to my closet and grabbed a pair of blue jeans and a purple blouse. By the time I had walked to the bathroom my feet were as cold as ice; I changed quickly and put on fuzzy socks and my favorite pair of high tops. I pulled my auburn hair into a ponytail, put on dark eyeliner to pull out the green in my hazel eyes, then finally added on lip stick to my full lips. My skin was extremely pail, but because it was winter so was everyone else’s was too.
My mom gave me a ride to school; first period was always the class I feared most, reading. If I could just make it through that class I would be okay. I jumped out of the car and onto the side walk and watched my mom leave for home. During class I was jumpy, like I always was during the first class of the day.
Our teacher walked in with her brown curls bouncing down to her shoulders as if they were springs. Mrs. Asher was pretty compared to most of the teachers at this school. Her skin wasn’t very pale, but tan and her brown eyes were big and bright. The only thing that looked weird about her was that she always wore cherry red lipstick.
She had a new seating chart which put Ella next to me instead of across the room. I began to relax until of course Mrs. Asher left the room. She was never in the class room when the murder came in during my dreams. I began to look around the room attempting to distract myself with posters that were meant to teach us something, or con us into turning in our home work; to do that we would have to do it first. I heard the door creak open I turned my head expecting to see Mrs. Asher walk into the room but instead the worse person possible stepped into view.
Dark hair, leather jacket, navy blue jacket, and worn out tennis shoes, it was him. I sat there as my blood turned to ice, I could literally feel my face go as white as snow. His eyes scanned everyone in the room but stopped when they saw me. He smiled revealing what was left of his teeth. I shuddered and made my wrong move; I looked at Ella. He followed my gaze.
He began to raise his gun, “No!” I screamed. Ella had been standing as if to address the man, I landed myself in front of her in time to hear the gun fire. I gasped in pain and looked down.
Blood, lots of blood was staining my blouse. I put a hand over the wound, I had changed the dream. Ella was fine and instead of having a sadistic grin on his face the man looked horrified at what he had done. He half ran half stumbled out of the room. And now when the life of the victim was gone my eyes didn’t open.