This Will Surely Kill Us

December 7, 2009

photo by cmiper

My sister’s father comes to visit us, only, he grows as a sunflower in my closet. While visiting, he likes to “fix” my stuffed animals by taking them apart, washing the material and adding new stuffing. Well on this particular visit, he decides its time to “fix” my sister and I. He doesn’t understand that this will surely kill us. When it comes time to begin the “fixing” process, he picks my sister first. With this I run to my mothers room for help, only to find a note on her bed saying she’s gone to Houston for a doctors appointment.



My mother in law called and told me with a hollow voice that my husband had been killed.  She said I needed to come home and take care of things immediately.

I rushed home to find my husband dead in the back yard.  There was fog and frost on the ground even though it was summer.  He had a stab wound to the belly.  It looked fake like it was made of congealed ketchup. I fumbled my cell and started to dial 911 but someone called me.

I spent the next few hours talking on the phone.  People kept calling me.  I couldn’t call the police.  Person after person called.  Calmly I told each person my husband was dead and that I needed to go so I could call for help.  I tried desperately to get off the phone and call the police.

The last call was from my best friend.  I walked outside to stare at my husband while I explained to her that I felt completely lost.  I looked at the man I love and he was turning gray.  He was inhumanly still.  Some of the frosted grass that surrounded him was stuck to his forehead.  Pain flashed through me and I started to cry as I told my friend that I just didn’t know what to do anymore.  He was my world.

I fell to my knees next to his body.  I reached a hand out but yanked it back when I could feel the ice cold radiate off him.  My eyes went to his face and I wondered why it looked so calm.  Through my blurred vision I saw his eyes open and his body jerked. He seemed to be in a seizure.  His movements were strange…almost mechanical.  His dead eyes looked into mine and he asked me why I hadn’t called the damn paramedics yet. He told me the knife wound hurt like a bitch and he was going to bleed to death if I didn’t stop chatting on the phone.

I hung up on my friend and dialed for help. I tried to sooth him with my words. He didn’t look so good. I don’t know if he lived or not.  I woke up as he finished telling me his mother is the one who tired to kill him.


Too late.

April 8, 2009

had a dream that when I returned to the IDP camp in Sudan that I found several small graves. I was too late. I wept quite a bit today.



April 1, 2009

I dreamt my friend killed his girlfriend in an old dilapidated hotel, but after he did it, he turned into Brad Pitt and she turned into Angelina Jolie and it all made sense.


We should run now

March 31, 2009

We keep seeing the bodies of men strewn across the pavement with what looked like a mixture of wax and vomit on their torsos and faces. I assume they’re drunkards, who have passed out in the street, until we see a man on the top floor of a balcony kick another man’s body out of the window along with a heap of annihilated puppy guts. I am just starting to wonder if he sees us when I wake up.


I was on a train when the werewolves attacked.  I begged to change seats with someone….anyone, but no one would.  They must have killed me because the scene went black, and then I was walking up a staircase to an old attic which I assumed was going to take me to heaven.  But the werewolf was still following my ghost up the staircase.  I realized that heaven wasn’t going to save me–that I would have to fight.  I slammed the attic door and pressed all my weight against it, but the werewolf managed to get his hands in the crack and was clawing at me.  I looked around for something to hit him with, but nothing was in reach.  It was then that I began breaking his fingers….then I woke up.


A Thing

February 3, 2009

Awesome flash movie by Lazy Muffin on DeviantART:

Watch the movie here.


Lazy Muffin