Cryptic Writings at 2:00 A.M

I once had a dream that did not make sense. Of course, most dreams do not make sense. They tend to defy time and space (once, I was in a dream where I was in an open field and also in a vaguely familiar living room, at the same time), or sometimes anachronistic (two friends were talking to one another in a dream. I know them both, though they don't know each other. They were talking about an event both of them knew nothing about).

At any rate, I once had a dream that did not make sense. I do not remember the details, but in it there was a pale little girl in a white dress. The kind little girls tend to wear, no doubt forced upon by parents, but that is beside the point. She had black-hollow eyes, her hair long and fluid, and a mouthful of fangs, blood dripping onto her white dress.

She was trying to tell me something, in that dream, though I do not remember what. No one takes very seriously what a little girl in a bloodied dress would say anyway. She guided me, in that dream, to a place I have forgotten. It was distinctly unpleasant.

The distressing part was not the dream itself, but that fracture of a second upon waking from that dream, where I discover that it is still night, and in the darkness of my room a little girl stood silently. White dress. Bloodstained. Fangs. It was only a small moment, but I knew she was there. In the darkness. Staring at me.


I should be careful which dreams I choose to manifest into reality.


Thank you.


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Note:
This story was written by a person named Shahriman Latif. He's from Subang Jaya, or at least according to his blog Demented Reality.

Do drop by Shahriman's blog for more interesting stuff!

P/S Don't do anything to the title, because that's what it looks like in Demented Reality. And, sorry I'm too lazy to think of any stories - I mean, come on, my holidays just started, I wanna chill a little bit.