Author: Squirrel holding a bazooka PM
Sam has a nightmare, but could it hold to be a bit truer than she thought? Will she live long enough to find out?Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Suspense/Horror - Sam M. - Chapters: 4 - Words: 4,062 - Reviews: 16 - Favs: 7 - Follows: 5 - Updated: 09-14-10 - Published: 05-30-10 - Status: Complete - id: 6009969
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
I do not, nor will I ever, own Danny Phantom.
Sam Manson awoke from her dream with a gasp. She blinked a few times to correct her vision. "No," she mumbled. "No, no, no, no, no. It's impossible. That was before you even moved to Amity Park."
She tiredly got out of bed and put on her, ironically, pink bunny slippers, which were worn out from overuse. She stretched her arms back, flexing her muscles and folding the black fabric of her silk nightgown. She picked up the black analog clock and pressed a button, allowing an eerie green light to flood from the top of the inside of the clock.
Sam sighed and let her head hang for a moment. She finally lifted it and ran her hand through her messy, raven hair. She grabbed a purple ponytail band and tied it around all of her hair instead of just the top half of it like she usually did. She took a silver clip off of the black nightstand and pulled away a few stray strands of hair. She half-walked, half-stumbled to the bathroom, her body telling her to go back to sleep. But still she walked on.
Once she arrived at the off-white door, she opened it, not bothering to knock. She turned on the light, but quickly regretted her decision. She squinted angrily at the fluorescent lights, trying to adjust to the horrid flickering. She was, on the other hand, suddenly glad that she had put on the slippers, for she could feel the cold radiating from the white and blue tiles on the floor. She approached the porcelain sink and turned on the white knob labeled 'cold' in black letters and capitals. She ran her vampire-pale hands under the water, cupping them so she could splash the water on her face.
She sighed when the water hit her face, feeling herself finally be able to relax after her nightmare. She turned off the water and grabbed the pale blue face towel from the side of the sink to dry her face off. She listened silently to the analog clock ticking on the wall to her right, her hands on either side of the sink, refusing to look up. She had her tired eyes closed and was about to fall asleep standing up. She continued listening to the clock ticking in the background.
It suddenly stopped.
Her eyes snapped open and she looked up into the spotless mirror. In the doorframe, there was a blonde girl in a pink spaghetti strap sundress who looked to be in her early teens- not even old enough to drive. The girl was laughing and smiling.
Sam whipped around to face the girl, but she was no longer there. She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths, insisting to herself that she was merely hallucinating. Sure, that probably meant that she had to go to a therapist again, but it was better than the girl in the doorframe being real.
The clock was ticking again.
Sam calmly turned around to the mirror and let out a gasp. There, as her reflection, was the blonde girl, but this time, she did not look friendly. This time, she looked angry- furious. "I'm coming," the blonde said darkly, and Sam jumped back in surprise, falling to the floor. She scrambled away on her butt, trying desperately to get away from the mirror. She looked fearfully over to the clock.
Sam slowly stood up and looked into the mirror, afraid that she might see the girl again. She sighed when the girl was not there, only her own reflection. She began backing up slowly, never taking her eyes off of the mirror. She didn't want to look away and give the girl the chance to come back. She continued walking backwards until she was safely out of the room. She didn't even bother turning off the lights. She closed her eyes and turned around, calmly walking back to her room as if nothing had happened.
She stepped into her room and walked over to her black-sheeted bed, taking off her bunny slippers on the side of the bed. She sat down on her bed and got under the covers, trying to pretend the episode mere minutes ago hadn't happed. But her eyes stayed wide-open, looking around her room in fear. I've gotta redecorate, she thought as her eyes were drawn to things such as a dragon and a poster of a gothic- quite scary looking- band. She slowly rolled over in her queen bed, eyes closed. She opened her eyes again and saw the blonde lying next to her.
Sam screamed and fell out of bed. She scrambled to her feet and ran to the door. She ripped open the obsidian-colored door and ran right into her father. Her rapid brething turned into scared, sobbing breaths as she fell to the floor.
"Sam? Samantha, what's wrong?" Thurston Manson asked, squating down so he could meet his daughter's eyes.
Sam looked up, her eyes bloodshot, and said, "I saw her, Dad."
Mwa-ha-ha! I'm evil. And no, I will not tell you what Sam's nightmare was about. I'm debating about whether or not I should turn this into a full-fledged fic. Wow, I decided to do some editing on this and turned one paragraph (about five or six sentences) into six, not including the whole "tick tock" deal. Please review! I will give you DP cookies (haha, I made more from my home ec accident (for those of you who don't know, I was supposed to double the recipe, but I accidentally tripled it)).