It was raining. The stairs leading up to my second floor apartment seemed a mountain that was impossible to climb, but since the elevator was out of order it was the only option. In the middle of the stairs I took a brief rest and I glanced at my watch. It was 1:00 am. “Damn,” I thought to myself, “I’ll never get up tomorrow.” I finally made it to my door and clumsily attempted to unlock it. It was already unlocked. “That’s just great, I forgot to lock the door, probably all my stuff is stolen.” I opened the door and promptly ran into my desk. “Well if they took everything, they left the desk.” I said, rubbing my knee. I flipped the switch. “The powers off, sweetie,” said an ancient voice.
I jumped “Mrs. Frances?” I said timidly. A flash of lightning revealed the elderly lady. She held a flashlight to her face. “I’m right here, dear.” I pulled out twenty dollars and handed it to her. “Did she give you any trouble?” She chuckled, “Not a bit, sweet little child, she reminded me of you at that age.” I smiled and with the aid of her flashlight, she found the front door. “Do you want the flashlight?” she said attempting to hand it to me. I shook my head. “You will need it to get down stairs, I’ll be okay.” She nodded and left, leaving me in the darkness.
After accidentally walking into the bathroom twice, I finally found my bedroom. I undressed in the dark and felt around for my bed. “Ouch!” My ankle had found it for me. “Stupid dark, making it hard to see,” I thought grumpily. I climbed in bed and quickly fell asleep.
I was transported to a glorious ball room. The floor was a shiny black marble, encrusted with blood red rubies and the walls were a dark wood, heavily ornamented with fire breathing golden dragons, crouching silver demons and other ferocious creatures of lore. The impossibly tall ceiling was covered in frescoes of tortured saints, meeting their demise with less than holy features. I looked about me. There were rows and rows of waltzing black-masked couples. The ladies were dressed in ball gowns of different styles and cuts, but were all the same crimson red color. They gentlemen were in black with red neckties.
I looked down at myself. My gown was snow white and embroidered all over with silver stars. I carefully touched my gloved hand to the fabric, it shimmered. I looked at my hands; they were free of jewelry, except for one ring on my left hand. It was an opal set in a silver setting. I walked over to a gilded mirror to get a better look. I gazed at my reflection with wonder. My hair curls naturally, but now my dark hair was put into pipe curls and arranged very becomingly around my face, tiny white pearls and rosebuds peeking out from the curls. My pale Irish skin was clear of all blemishes, and my hazel-green eyes looked startlingly beautiful. I looked further and notice that, like the other women, I had a ribbon tied around my neck, though mine was white, instead of black.
I wondered at all of it, it seemed so real. I felt a tap on my shoulder, and heard a deep voice say “You seem a little lost, Miss Julia.” I turned around and took in a sharp intake of breath. Before me stood the most handsome man I had ever seen. He was tall, and slim, with a handsome face set with sapphire blue eyes and framed with long dark brown hair, his skin was white and smooth looking as marble. I suddenly felt very self-conscious. He smiled at me as if he knew my discomfort, revealing two rather pointed canines along with his normal teeth. I held out my hand. He kissed it, never taking his almost hypnotizing eyes from mine. He then said “May I have this dance?” I collected my wits and replied “You may.” And we waltzed out onto the floor. The mysterious gentlemen and I danced for a few minutes before he finally spoke. “You look very lovely tonight.” I blushed, hating myself for it. I had prided myself on resisting the advances of men, and now it was all falling apart. “If I may be so bold,” I said in my best romance novel dialect. “May I ask your name, and how you come know mine?” He replied simply. “I am a dream, I don’t actually exist other than your own subconscious, though, since you asked, you may as well call me Drake.”
We danced away from the crowd and ended up on a dark balcony. Here we sat on a bench and remarked about how deeply red the roses were. He turned to me and looked deep into my eyes. “May I kiss you?” Despite just having met him, I nodded, knowing that a dream could not judge me. We kissed on the bench, first on the lips then he slowly worked his way down my face to my neck. I felt him untie the ribbon when something outside of sleep disturbed me. I stopped him. “What was that?” I said aloud.
I woke slowly at first, not fully believing I was awake, for I still felt his arms around me and his lips on my neck. That is when I looked at the clock beside my bed. It glared 3:00am. I slowly realized that I was not alone. I quickly jumped out of bed and turned on the light, fully expecting to see nothing there. Unfortunately I was wrong. The man from my dream was as real as life in front of me. My neck burned as if acid had been poured on me. I looked across the room to my full length mirror. Blood, was dripping down my neck, staining my white night gown. I grabbed a tissue and attempted to stop it from bleeding. I turned back to the fiend on my bed, his lips rouged with my blood. I felt very faint, but I managed to keep standing. “Who are you? What are you doing here?” He got up. I backed away towards my door. “What do you want?” I said shaking. I fumbled with the door knob, the door was stuck. He just stared at me. “I want you.” I looked at him, dumbstruck. He moved to take my hand. I snatched it away. “You want my blood, my life!” I backed away again. He sighed and started to examine a photograph of my little sister Cecilia, who was sleeping peacefully in the other room. “Yes, I want your life.” I ran towards my cell phone. He moved as fast as lightning and suddenly had me lifted in his arms. “Let me go you monster!” I struggled wildly like an injured animal caught in a cruel trap. He put his hand over my mouth. “Now, now, is that anyway to treat your future husband?” He removed his hand and kissed me on my unwilling lips, making me taste my own blood. I was fading fast from the loss of blood and thrashing. I raised my eyes to my cracked ceiling and asked “Why me?” he smiled revealing his slightly pink teeth. “I fell in love.” He answered with a smirk. I then passed out.
The next morning I awoke in my own bed. I smiled, relieved, yet a little disappointed. “Guess the only action I’m going to get is in my dreams.” I chuckled. I got out of bed and shut the open window next to it. I turned from the window and noticed that a dark red envelope was on my nightstand. “What the..?” I cautiously opened it. Inside were two, one way tickets to Romania.
I gasped, and dropped them. “Is this some kind of joke?” I said out loud. “What’s a joke Julia?” I almost jumped. Then I realized it was just Cecilia, yawning and rubbing her adorable eyes with her adorable little fists. “Nothing Cece.” She looked around and picked up the tickets on the floor. She looked at them with determination rarely seen in a five year old. “Ro-main-ee-a” She sounded out carefully. She looked up at me. “What is Romania?” I scooped her up and carried her to the breakfast table. I explained, while making breakfast, that Romania is a country in Eastern Europe. I passed her a bowl. She ate her oatmeal thoughtfully, and then said “Isn’t that were vampires are?” I almost choked. I coughed and said, “There is no such thing as vampires, those are just folk tales.” She thought about it, a dreamy expression came to her light blue eyes. “Too bad, I wanted to see one.” I stared at my spoon, and noticed a bandage on my neck. “How about we go on a little vacation?” She looked up, her eyes shone like two blue stars. “Oh can we?” I nodded and smiled. “You don’t have school until next month and I have some vacation time.” If crazy men wanted to leave envelopes with free plane tickets in them around, I was fine with it. I looked at the tickets Cecilia had brought with her to the table. They were for tomorrow night. I looked at the wall clock; it was eleven in the morning. I looked back at Cecilia. “Let’s go pack.” She shook her blond curls in excitement and ran to her room. I called work to say that we had to visit a dieing relative in another country, and so that I was taking my vacation time now. I pulled my blue robe closer around me, feeling strangely chilled on an August morning. “I hope I know what I’m doing” I thought shivering.

IQ test

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2 Responses to “Should I Continue This Story?”
  1. Buster Hyman says:

    I’m on the edge of my seat.
    the description of your dream was captivating.
    I’d love to hear what happens next.
    You should always finish your stories, especially one you’ve already put so much creativity in to. You will always regret it if you don’t.
    If you do, and post it online somewhere, I would greatly appreciate a link, or a copy through email if not. This unfinished story will be nagging at me to read the rest until I do!

  2. litewerk says:
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