Summary

It was a bone chilling and muscle numbing January night, probably the worst night I can recall from my unwanted past. I just finished reading the book I bought two days ago that night but didn't understand a single line. At my despair, I turned my computer on and composed my own story. I managed to finish my first draft but ended up with another story that talks about death and sufferings. Lately I've been struggling to free my mind from these thoughts but the more I shelter myself, the more I find them breaking in to me. After some revisions on my work, I then decided to rest.I lie awake staring at the ceiling thinking about the day that just passed. It was just another day, a same old day that I got bullied by some freaks in our block on my way home but this time I decided to fight back, thanks to my courage I now have bruises in almost every part of my frail body. School was not good as well. Even before my fight with those bullies, my professor had already wage war on me. No they didn't assault me with an AK-47's or what, it was a more brutal one, they waged a psychological war, too bad for me because they finished triumphant. Their words made me feel how painful the sting of humiliation really is. They undressed me with my self-respect and invoked me to succumb to their self-professed greatness intellect and morality. I wonder if they really do know what intellect and morality means but one thing I sure do know, I never want to show them my face ever again.Behind every shadow is a light, and that is what she is to me- the light behind the shadows of my woe. She's so lovely I can't help staring, so fine I can't help falling. Everything could've been so perfect like a fairy tale if not only for a thing, she hates me, worse, I don't know why. Now I'm left on the shadows of heartache made by this peculiar light we all regard to as love.Contemplating these thing made me understand the deeper relation between myself and my works, I've been trying to escape life, I've been wanting to free myself from the grasp of pain, the clutch of loneliness and the prison of despair. I want to be free, free as a soul wandering the infinity of the unknown. Upon that realization, I closed my eyes.I've fallen in slumber until a mournful sound woke me, one that sounds more of a cry. I opened my eyes to check where that sound is coming from and I was dead surprised, and terrified as well, on what I've seen, a man who looks exactly like me, sited on the floor, drowning in sweat and tears and shaking in fright. My body has turned cold and weak, so weak that I cant even wink, as if my eyes were stocked on that man. My horror grew worse when the man stared back at me. I started to palpitate. There's something in his eyes that horrified me. Grudge- I felt his grudge on me. His eyes, though teary, reflects his rabid passion. Just before my heart pop off my chest, I saw another man. I recognized not his face except from his fiery red eyes and his devilish grin. I can barely tell what he looked like because he appeared to me like more of a silhouette. I tried to scream but no voice came out. I started gasping for breath. Little did I noticed, the red-eyed silhouetted started to move. He drew closer to the motionless man, the one who resembles my being, grabbed him in his hair and mercilessly crashed its head onto the wall. Blood spat out almost in every corner of my room. I can feel the monster's rage as well as its victim's agony. I was so terrified I felt numb, fear have paralyzed my whole system. I thought it's over when that monster let go the pathetic man's dead body but I was wrong. My horror had yet to start. The red-eyed silhouette pierced me with an evil stare with a smile more devilish than before. That's it, I told myself. I knew I will be his next prey and I was right. He walked closer and closer to me then jumped over my bed where I remained lying in despair. He choked me with his bloody hands. Finally, I gained back my nerves; i tried to break away from his hold. I threw desperate punches just to move him back away from me but every time I hit him, his hold just gets tighter and tighter and so I lost my consciousness.I had a loud scream when I woke up; it was 39 minutes pass 4 in the morning then. I no longer see the red-eyed silhouette but I'm still gasping for breath. After gaining my whole consciousness, I lied in bed once more. It was a dream, no, it was a nightmare. All these time I've been talking about death and sufferings but now that I seem to witness it first hand, I think I never want to hear those words again. I never thought death could be so tragic, so merciless, so horrifying and so atrocious. I had a deep sigh and turned on the lights to loosen things up but my horror came crashing back on me as fast, if not faster, than the speed of light that I've just turned on. There are traces of bloods on my wall, the same wall where the monster in my self-alleged nightmare crashed the head of its victim. I thought it was a nightmare but not for long. I then passed out