Dreaming Of Teeth Crumbling Novels & Stories

I thought I had forgotten how to smile, but who knew chocolate would do the trick. Sighing, I close my eyes and rest my head on the pillow only to open them back up immediately I see Dylan's lifeless pale face with his mouth drooling blood. My insomnia's been getting really worse, and I doubt I've had any real sleep for as long as I can remember. I wake up from each doze sweating and panting from the nightmares.

he said gently, “what do you see in these dreams?” I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to recall the terrifying images that haunted my sleep. “It’s… it’s always dark,” I began, my voice a little shaky. “Sometimes, I’m falling. Falling into a deep, dark sea. The water is cold and heavy, and I can’t breathe. I’m drowning.” I shivered, even remembering the feeling. “And other times,” I continued, “I’m locked in a room. A small, dark room. There are no windows, no doors. Just… darkness. I can’t escape.”

But months had passed, and she still hadn’t returned to her office. I didn’t mind, really. It kept my mind busy. Between rebuilding projects, patrol rosters, and managing supplies, I barely had time to think. Which was the point. Because when I did think, I heard them again. The cracking bones. The fading growls. The sound of men dying. I had not told anyone about the dreams. Every night, the same thing. The same screams. The same flashes of silver and red. I’d wake before dawn, sweat soaking through my shirt, the silence too heavy to breathe through.

They were terrified for me, even if they tried to hide it behind forced smiles and burnt toast. "Eat up, Maya," my mother said, her hands trembling as she poured my tea. "You need your strength for the prep school today." I nodded, but I couldn't swallow. My stomach felt like it was full of jagged glass. For the last three nights, the dreams had been worse. Vivid, terrifying flashes of things that felt like memories but hadn't happened yet. Last night, it was a bridge. A bright red bridge snapping in the middle of a thunderstorm. The sound of metal screaming against metal was so loud I woke up crying.

he said and ate the bread with hummus. My lips quivered. “You know I don’t remember my parents at all. All these nightmares that I see are in a haze. It’s like I am a part of this scary, hazy, horror movie. This shit needs to go. Why the hell am I dreaming something so gross? I need a break!”

His expression was unreadable, which scared me more. "I am sorry, I didn't mean to, I don't know if it's true, that the substance is only going to make you sleep and when you wake up you will lose your strength, but lately I have been having bad dreams that, the substance kills you, I watch blood comes out of your mouth, you bled to death, right in front of me, right there, it's not just this time, but so many times and those are the dreams, I have been having lately. I am sorry!!!" I mouthed as tears dropped from my eyes. "I know it's poison, from the juice too when you start this madness of wanting to kill."

I no longer choose to dream because I start believing that it is absurd. Because what precisely is a dream? Is it like crumbled leaves and stems from a tree falling from the highest altitude and touched down on the rock bottom like shards of glass? I cannot put everything back together, having known that the coming years are a clouded reflection that I cannot seem to decrypt from afar as the fumes engulf me. But what must I do? In order to preserve your sanity, you must keep on dreaming. Unsurprisingly, I no longer have it. *** Unknown POV

I coyly smiled at him as I asked, “What are you talking about? How do you know what I'm dreaming?” “I know because every time you have that dream you talk in your sleep. You talk about Laylan, Artimous, Grealan and Ivy. Then you're hard to wake up after that. I was just curious as to what your dream was about,” he finished and his lips curled at the edges into a smile.

I inserted my hand into the pocket in my jacket and walked on. ~~~~ Fire! Screamed! Fear! Darkness! That was all I could pictured in my sleep for 13years of my life. I saw no faces, but a child crying so loud from a distance that do brushed my eardrum. Was this connected to the past I knew nothing about? I swallowed the heavy load in my throat, reached for the table clock on my table, then I dropped it back on the stool. It is morning already. I flicked off the blanket from me and rose up from the bed. I relieved this with music or exercise.

Winter was crying her eyes out like she could feel my pain and maybe she could. “I missed my mum, I saw her in my dreams every night, screaming and begging. The dreams always started the same way. The sound of rain, then the smell, then I feel my head get wet and my mum begins to scream. But just like that day, in that dream, I can not move. My legs are rooted to the ground and my lips are quivering in fear and cold.”