Snippet #1042359

The sounds of the classroom in the early morning crowded Maisie like an angry crowd, so after five minites of chatting, chairs moving, the teacher trying to keep the class under control, Maisie gave up, stopped listening, and settled into a daydream...

And Maisie was in a forrest. She could hear the wind blowing through the trees, feel the sweet summer air around her.
This was green, and Maisie could feel it, so close she could almost see it, swirling around the airy blue of the sky, the specks of red that fell in and out of the green, the apples. And even the scuffling of the squirrils across the floor around her, brown dashes running in and out of the green she was so close too seeing them. Too anyone else, this picture Maisie had painted in her head, the picture of her dreams, was nothing, a swirl, a pattern, an abstract. But this is how Maisie saw, in her dreams.

But then the brown scuffling stopped, the blue stopped swirling, and the green swayed to a stop. But the brilliant red of the apples stayed, and omniously pulsed, expanding, growing and growing untill the blood red of apples consumed the green, the blue, the brown. Maisie wasn't imaganing anymore, she could see it. The crimson wound its self around her, there when she closed her eyes, when she tried to look away. The colour of blood was suffogateing her, so much so she couldn't breath, cry out for help. Then she heard a low, terrifieing voice, though it was impossibly shrill wispering into her ear.

"You can't dream for much longer, Maisie. Because the dream is over." The voice paused, and the red swirled around back into a world black "Because the nightmare is only just beginning."

Maisie woke up screaming.