The street before me was utterly still and silent as I ran its course, a few spectral lamps being my only source of illumination from the night that settled on the neighborhood like inky, pervasive smog.
“Help, please!” I would occasionally cry out to the looming houses as I passed them by. No answer would ever come. So I ran, on and on, because I knew somehow – though I never dared to look – that not far behind was my nighttime stalker, keeping pace with me all the time.
This is a recurring dream I had as a child, for years on end. The details would change ever so slightly over time, but it always ended the same … my finding no solace from whoever was pursuing me. It is gone now, back to wherever those pernicious bad dreams go, yet the memory of how it made me feel still brings me chills. Perhaps one day I will even turn it into a story, but until then …
I was wondering if anyone else would like to share something of this nature that they have experienced? By all means, my dears, do.
I love scary stories.