The Nightmare Creator
It was a blazing summer’s day. My surroundings were slowly starting to melt: the trees, the houses, the sky and the pathway to my garage. It seemed that I was about to dissipate as well, becoming a puddle of glue-like substance left on the ground. I was walking at crawling speed. My head felt huge and heavy, and each muscle in my body felt sore. My arms and legs were responding to the signals that my brain was sending to them at a slower speed than I thought was possible. It felt like a slow-motion horror movie, only it was happening live. I finally reached the front door and touched the handle with a loose grip. The path that took only a second for my eyes to see took about twenty minutes for my body to cover. But, I was finally at my goal. I slowly squeezed the handle of the door in a downwards motion, only to realize it had barely moved. I gathered the last reserves of my strength that I had left in my body and pressed the handle again. No success. I pivoted around, leaned against the door, and slowly slid down to the ground. I felt faint. I was so thirsty that I could barely think about anything else. I had to get inside; had to pull myself together and open the door. Otherwise, I would faint there, near the front entrance to my own house. I pushed myself up from the ground and faced the door again. I closed my eyes for a second, took a deep breath, opened them, and pulled the door knob down as hard as I could. It gave way grudgingly. If it wasn’t for the helpless shadow of a man that I was at that moment, I would definitely have screamed in happiness for finally winning over this stubborn door knob. But I could only settle on a weak smile and a deep sigh. I went inside and had to wait for a minute before I could make out my environment. It was too dark, still boiling hot and, somehow, lonely inside. By the time my eyes adapted to the darkness inside, I could tell that no one was around. What time was it? And where was everyone? The...
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