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Alrighty, a long time ago I promised myself that I would dedicate this journal to my wierd/funny/creepy dreams. So, here's the most recent one:


It began at a bookstore, and I was in the Science Fiction/Horror isle, looking for a story about an insane asylum. When I turned around to look on the shelf behind me, an old, panicked woman stood mere inches from me. When she noticed I was looking at her, she put on a fake-kind smile and held out an old torn book titled, 'Mad House'.

"Here, deary." She had offered, "Take it, I'm sure you'll like it. It has the plot you're looking for. I promise."

How I didn't find this suspicious, I have no idea, but I happily took the book anyway. When I was home - which in the dream-world was a mansion - I sat on the first step to a flight of stairs and started to read the book.

After I had read the first chapter, the text warped into images, like a comic. But the text on the page also leaked out from the book and onto the floor. The letters sent ripples through the objects, and it didn't take long for it to stop. Trying desperately not to freak out, I ran to my parents' room and swung open the door, which happened to be covered in blood. In fact, the entire room was covered in blood.

My dad was sitting on the edge of the bed, mom's bodylying behind him with her neck twisted at a wierd angle. The only thing that killed her was a twisted neck, so there was no cause for the blood, especially that much.

Dad looked up from his hands, "I killed her." He rasped, "But you don't understand. They would have killed her, anyway. They would have murdered her, but I killed her. Do you see the diffrence? Do you?!"

For some reason, what had happened didn't surprise me. He sprang up and ran at me, but I slammed the door, which had become dry during the one-sided conversation. Thumps were coming from the other side of the door, and on the third, a head busted through the wood, but it wasn't my dad's head, it was a boar's.

I backed away from the door, and he did, too. He openned it and walked into what now was a kitchen. In his right hand, he held an oddly dry butcher knife that had my dad's head attatched to the end. The boar, that had suddenly dressed into a chef's costume, held out a hooved hand to me and said in a british accent,

"Be useful for once, and pass me the apple, would you?"

To me right, a wooden chopping table had popped up out of no where; on it were two things: a red apple and a green apple. I picked up the green one and threw it at him, hitting him in the eye, and causing him to be distracted. I ran out the door again and re-appeared near the stairway.

"It'll all go away. It'll all go away." I whispered to myself deliriously, plopping back down onto the same step as before, openning the book to the second chapter. It was a manga-styled book now, and showed a girl in a school uniform walking home, but there was another girl behind her with an expression that, put plainly, scared the s**t out of me. I became even more scared when I felt cold metal on my left cheek, and dark hair on my left shoulder. I screamed after I heard a guy's voice whisper,

"Give me the [******** book, little girl."