Write 2-paragraphs about a funny or a frightening dream:
September 06, 2015, it was 2:00 am just right after Kulayaan–the Kalayaan residence hall acquaintance party. We came up with the wonderful idea to have a horror story telling marathon. That was why along the flickering of the old, decrepit ceiling light in the dorm’s TV area, our hushed voices were heard. Stories after stories were shared–some of the particular stories were the infamous cabinet on the basement, where someone was allegedly locked and starved to death; the mysterious lady who was said to be haunting the grounds of the sunken garden during the night; the horrors of sleep paralysis; and the story from the UST files: the OLE ghost, which is a voice, allegedly heard by a woman who used the worn-out and avoided comfort room in one of the old buildings in UST. While inside a cubicle, as according to the story, she allegedly heard a voice singing, “Ole, ole, ole~”. The woman, frightened, sprinted out from the comfort room on the first floor back to her class on the third floor—and when she asked her Spanish professor what ole means, her professor told her it means look up.
So with the hair strands on our neck standing, we decided to call it a day, technically a dusk, and head back to our individual rooms. My roommate, Edmar, was unfortunately out for the province that day. Fear, like an electric current, quickly spiked my veins the moment I shut the door of my room. The images of those spooky and ominous figures flooded my mind. I quickly regretted the horror story telling because I forgot how easy I am to be frightened. That was why with a blanket around my body and the lights turned on, I resorted to the best method I know on quickly falling asleep. I closed my eyes and began counting inside my head. Rumor has it that if you closed your eyes and didn’t move for fifteen minutes, then you’ll fall asleep.
I couldn’t remove the uneasy feeling that somebody was watching me from the corner of the room and above the cabinet that is adjacent to my bed.
Five minutes had passed. Fat droplets of cold sweat were beginning to form on my face, mostly on my forehead where some of my bangs were already damped and were already sticking onto the skin. I desperately want to move those patches of hair away from my face but I can’t because the last thing I want to do is to fall asleep and moving means deviating from that, so I lay still.
The pressure was killing me, I just have to move and get the hair strands away from my face. Also, the way that I was on the bed was very discomforting. I knew I just needed to move, and so I did. I opened my eyes and hoped for the best, without any of those monsters and sort. There aren’t any. I was still counting inside my head, just because. I got my glass and onto the water dispenser I had gone.
I drank the first mouthful of cold water in frustration. My shirt was drenched from sweat, hyperhidrosis. Again, I tried to return to sleep, but found that I can’t even grasped a handful of my well-wanted sleep. So I decided to strode all the hallways of the whole boys wing, all four-floor, to find similar people like me who had also problem falling asleep.
I was still counting inside my head, I don’t know why, I just did. It was the second floor that I had been and still no signs of tired and insomniac people like me. I just needed someone to talk with. In my search, I had run up and down the stairs, walked left to right of the hallway, but still I found none. And so, that is why I decided to return to my room and hope for the best.
On the way back to my room, I lazily moved my seemingly heavy legs to the farther end of the poorly dim-lit hallway, which was because it was dawn, duh, and people were already sleeping. So house rules—only the middle bulb was to be remained open. There, apart from the lit bulb by the center of the hallway, there is another by the end that of which was mine, the light was coming from the LED ceiling light of room.
I moved my legs—left and right—left and right. In what fifty-seconds may have passed from the usual thirty-seconds walk from the right side of the hallway to the other, I grew tired and confused. I ran. I sprint. I dash.
In what seemed like an eternity of running in the dark hallway onto the end, to the light, I thought I have already excreted enough energy to run a kilometer. I was once again sweating and pampering from the run. Finally the nightmare of the hallway ends when I had finally hold the knob of the door to my room. What shocked me most, however; was not the way my glass was in its default position on the table as opposed to where I had place it, or the way my blanket was supposedly on the floor where I had left it; what shocked me the most, however, was the way someone was lying on top of my bed, using my blanket—a boy with dyed hair was sleeping on top of my bed, using my blanket—but upon a closer look… I realized that the person I was looking at, was no other than myself.
A/N: (October 18, 2017). Boy. This post was more than two years ago and I’m telling you, I have no idea I could write. This were probably one of those times I drabble, simply typing whatever comes out of my mind for a whole 15 mins and boom, this is the result. Wow, self. This is not half-bad. Too bad you shifted out of the creative writing program. Ow wells