A nightmare.

That word, it triggers something in your brain, something dark and horrifying, like some monster clawing at your window trying to get in, some murder chasing you down, and then you're running, from what, you don't know. It's getting closer, closer, gaining speed, gaining perspective, gaining that thirst for blood. And you're running, as fast as you possibly can, and all that's running through your head is, Why didn't I actually run in block runs during PE? You can see it now, when you dare turned your head.

And it reaches you. A gunshot, a roar, a flash of darkness, a pair of red, beady eyes, a hand at your neck, a pair of fangs biting in your flesh. Then the world stops spinning, then the time freezes, then you gasp your last breath. Darkness. Falling. Everlasting screaming.

And you wake up. You wake up with a shock, a rush of adrenaline, a What the hell just happened?, a Where the hell am I?, a It wasn't real.

You're gasping for breath, you're sweating, and you try to analyze what had just happened in your brain, what had just happened that was so real but so surreal at the same time.

That's what we think of when someone mentions the word, nightmare.

What they don't think of is the silence.

It is the silence that is the deadliest.

It is the silence that tells you that it's close.

Death is close.

It is the silence that tells you that you've only got a few minutes.

It is the silence that tells you, that whispers to you, what is next. What is waiting. What is to come.

It reminds you, every step of the way, something is going to happen, something is happening already, something is chasing you down.

It is the silence that whispers to you, threatening to kill, threatening every minute in which you are alive, threatening to end your breath.

Can't you hear it now?


Hands sweaty. Heart pounding. Silence.

All you can hear is your heart beat now. Your heart beat, going at 100 miles per hour, making your breathing uneven.

It's going fast and your head is spinning and you can't think straight and all you can do is stand there. Unmoving. The world freezes around you.

Something is creeping up on you now, definitely.

You walk towards something, anything, that door, that house, that road, that room.

Everything is still.

The floor creaks, the road uneven, something makes the slightest sound.

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

Somewhere, somehow, a clock is ticking, reminding you every step of the way that you've only got seconds left.

Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

Slowly you walk, your head turing back, seeing if there is anything following.

What you don't know is that in the midst of the silence, it is watching you. It is staring, glaring, looking, from that window, just right over there.

Is it raining out? Is there a thunder storm? Is it dark? Is there daylight shining in?

It doesn't matter. Somewhere, it's there. Staring. Watching. Looking.

All light sources suddenly go out. The clock still ticking.

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

You're walking, it's dark, but your eyes are slowly adjusting.

Tick, tock.


You say the "tock" in your head automatically without noticing. You know this is it.

Tock. Tick, tock.

The clock goes back ticking. Your palm is sweaty, you can hardly breathe correctly now.

Tick. Tock.

The clock is going slower, you don't know why, you're scared. It doesn't matter where you're walking anymore, all was dark, and your head is turning back and forth, trying to look for it.

Tick. Tock.

The clock, it's definitely mocking you now. Tick. Seconds. Tock. Left.

You want to get out now, this is all too much, the clock ticking, the darkness, the silence. You want to go home now, you want to run.

But you're standing there, paralyzed. You want to go now, you want to go somewhere where there's light, real, genuine sunlight. You're head is spinning now, you don't know where to go, all you know is that you want to get out of this godforsaken place.

Tick. Tock.

It's reminding you again.

Seconds. Left.


The clock stops. The world stops. The spinning stops.

Everything stops.

And there's silence.



She wakes up, cold and sweaty. The blanket that had covered her were now on the floor. She realizes she's sleeping on the couch, the TV on. She realizes that her friend was dozing on the armchair set diagonally away from here.

Her friend opens one eye. "Nightmare?"


"Hm." Without a word her friend scootched over on the armchair and yawned.

"Thanks," she said, picking up her blanket and walking over, only to notice her friend already snoring. She smiled, settled her head so she was more comfortable, snuggled in her blanket and closed her eyes.

"No need, I won't have nightmares this way either," she hears her friend mumble before she went into a deep, dreamless sleep.

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