Overactive Imagination Novels & Stories

And Mathew when he was over working on the lawn Monday, but that was only to use the bathroom. He was safe. His house was safe, and it definitely wasn’t haunted. His feelings the last few days, the peripheral shapes and movements . . . they were all born from his imagination, which had been kicked into overdrive by the intrusion. As a writer, he had control over his own imagination. He could indulge it when need be, but he could also reel it in when required. He needed to reel it in now before he made himself any crazier. U

Kyle growled. "You were spying on my boys?" Eds’ eyes flashed with anger. "I'll get a restraining order against you." "Go ahead," Kyle said confidently. "I know those boys are mine." "You must be out of your mind," Eds snapped. "The years you spent with Nikki must have drained your brain cells and made you stupid." "We’ll see," Kyle replied with a smirk, turning his cart and walking away. "Damn it," Eds muttered angrily.

I tried to rationalize my fears, telling myself that it was just my overactive imagination, but the feeling persisted. I felt a cold sweat break out on my forehead as I thought about all the things that could go wrong. What if there was someone outside, lurking in the shadows, waiting to pounce on me when I least expected it? What if there was a natural disaster, like an earthquake or a tornado, that would leave me trapped and helpless in my room? What if the world was ending, and I was the only one left alive?

The pain struck, slowly covering my visions. That was when I realized I had been pinching my arm so hard that my teeth were about to break! Yes, those scenes were all my imagination— I imagined that I didn’t stop Genny from rushing in to help me, and together we witnessed this grand scene of catching them in the act, taking pictures to prove the shameless affair of this adulterous couple. I’d love to do that too. But I couldn’t. Hayes was right. When people are anxious, nervous, or angry, they easily lose the ability to think calmly.

"Oh, Ember, stop daydreaming and focus on the fishes. You're missing out on a lot." "Oh, Papa, the desire to fulfill dreams starts with our imagination. I'm not daydreaming; I'm imagining. A great person once said, 'The more powerful your imagination, the more powerful your future.' So whatever you want to do, first create an image in your mind and dedicate yourself to it." "Is that so? Well, I don't see a hardworking Ember; all I see is an Ember who daydreams about her future but never dares to work hard."

It just is. I didn’t have that anymore. For one thing, the things I imagined seemed almost as real as actual memories. As my paranoia built, I pictured myself running out into the desert, screaming in panic – and I kept thinking, Oh my God, maybe I already WAS out in the desert screaming, and I just don’t realize that I already did it. Or worse, maybe I’m running out in the desert this very moment, and I just don’t realize that I’m actually DOING IT RIGHT NOW. I only THINK I’m still back here on the road, when I’m REALLY out THERE, running around and screaming.

I could imagine them spilling on those clothes and I would have to clean those damn stains again. Rolling over, I yawned trying to clear my mind, but the music grew a little more joyous and my mind drifted to people dancing, laughing, and eating all sorts of delicious foods. My stomach growled and I pulled into the fetus's position to try and silence it. Why was I cursed with a very detailed imagination? If I didn’t control it, I swear I could even smell the food I was thinking about.

He sighs, "You've poured more than enough honey on your pancakes, princess." My eyes widen and I look at my plate. I huff and put the bottle on the table. Why am I dreaming in daylight? "I apologize," I mutter and hold the piece to stuff it into my mouth. "No worries. And yeah my love, don't think so much. I know it's impossible to forget what happened in the past but whenever you feel like your mind is struggling, just take some deep breaths and push the thought out of your mind." I nod at his words. He knows my habit of overthinking and we can't help it. Overthinking feels like a disorder sometimes and to me, it's the most dangerous disease.