Summary: "When I was little, I used to have nightmares about the end of the world."
Notes: The other night there was an amazing thunderstorm in my city. When it started, I was sitting at my computer, and I saw bright flashes from the lightening. This was very similar to a nightmare I had a few years ago about the end of the world; thus "Nightmares" was born.
"They that sow in tears shall reap in joy. Although they go forth weeping, bearing precious seed, they shall come back rejoicing, carrying their sheaves."
When I was little, I used to have nightmares about the end of the world. Sometimes it was quiet, still. Others it was noisy, screaming and explosions tearing the air. The quiet ones were somehow worse.
I would be the only one alive, but the bodies, the bodies were everywhere, like some poison gas or radiation had overtaken them. I could walk all through my house, my town, my state and see nothing but the bodies of strangers. From these dreams I would wake up silent, unable to breathe, feeling the racing of my heart in stifled terror.
The noisy ones were terrible in their own way. It would be night, raining perhaps, maybe not, but the sky would be bright with explosions. There was fire everywhere, people running, screaming, begging for mercy and forgiveness. I would run into the night, rain plastering my hair to my face, the orange glow on my skin pushing me, but only to find... nobody. No one I knew. Surrounded by strangers, screaming for my parents to save me from this horror. From these dreams I would wake up crying and shouting, the sour metallic scent of fear lacing my pajamas.
But nothing could prepare me for this: annihilation by an unknown, nameless force, out to destroy the world for good. My mother could always save me from my dreams. She can't save me from this.