The Nightmare Creator Essay

It was a blazing summer’s day. My surroundings were slowly starting to melt: the trees, the houses, the sky and the pathway to my garage. It seemed that I was about to dissipate as well, becoming a puddle of glue-like substance left on the ground. tree house

I was walking at crawling speed. My head felt huge and heavy, and each muscle in my body felt sore. My arms and legs were responding to the signals that my brain was sending to them at a slower speed than I thought was possible. It felt like a slow-motion horror movie, only it was happening live. I finally reached the front door and touched the handle with a loose grip. The path that took only a second for my eyes to see took about twenty minutes for my body to cover. But, I was finally at my goal.

I slowly squeezed the handle of the door in a downwards motion, only to realize it had barely moved. I gathered the last reserves of my strength that I had left in my body and pressed the handle again. No success. I pivoted around, leaned against the door,

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