Read Waking Dreams Novels & Stories

Ding! I woke up terrified from bed in a dark room, panting heavily from the nightmare perpetually haunting me every single night. I was drenched in sweat and my whole body was trembling. I was frightened with tears unconsciously running down my cheeks. I dug my hand into my black; full; virgin; long hair in pains, then tugged them behind my ears to wipe off my tears. I sniffed in some secs later gasping out in aid to calm down as I unraveled the shadow of curtains around the wall.

Chapter 13 Awkward Moment Resh’s POV I woke up sweating profusely. I found it hard to breath earlier but I guess it was all part of the dream as I was breathing normally although a bit fast now. It is that nightmare of drowning again. Although it is clear to me that my nightmares were not mere dreams but had happened in reality, it still had come to bug me.

Ryder woke up with a bad dream. He couldn’t quite remember it, not even a single image remained in his mind but he knew for sure that it was scary. Judging by the fast beating of his heart and his sweaty face, he just knew that he must have experienced a nightmare.

Modern, furnished and beautiful and looking new everyday although the house was five years old already. Juana's coffee was transparent, lot of water,lot of sugar, no milk. So she could see her face while sipping at it. Her big blue eyes were a bit undefined, her expression showed fear with a mixture of helplessness and unusual calm. Then the dream came again. Avocado. Garden. Branch. Third branch. Corpse dripping with blood. Loose. Screaming. Empty House. Dream. "Oh my goodness" she sighed, dropping her half empty mug. She tried to make meaning out of it, but it was a little creepy..

She climbed into bed, and as soon as her head touched the pillow, she was lulled into a deep sleep. Waking up is a shift from the realm of dreams to the reality of the day, and it is best to take your time with it. For it is only then that we may examine the meanings of our dreams, weave them into the realities of our existence, and feel ready to face the day. Captain

Faith's Pov: I woke with a gasp, my chest tight as if I had just run a marathon in my sleep. The nightmares were relentless, plaguing my every dream. I hadn’t had a peaceful night’s sleep since I was a child. Every time I tried to close my eyes, I was pulled into a nightmare that felt too real, too vivid. I blinked rapidly, my gaze falling to the alarm clock next to my bed. Three in the morning. Of course. I groaned in frustration, flopping back down onto my pillow, my body a tangled mess of frustration and exhaustion.

he whispered weakly. I sprang towards him, but just as my fingers brushed his hand, I jolted awake, drenched in sweat. My heart pounded against my rib cage as my mind raced with a million thoughts. What was that dream? Was it a vision, or was it just my subconscious haunting me yet again? My heart ached for Brax every second of every day, and maybe this dream was just a way of telling me I wasn’t ready to move on; I wasn’t ready to marry another.

I vaguely felt someone rubbing the bruising on my right hand while I was half-conscious. "What do you mean he got into a car accident, and that three critical-condition notices were issued? Is this a lingering effect? It seems like the wound on the abdomen is slightly infected. "I'll head out for a while. Have the nurse hurry with the anti-inflammatories and change the dressing. Go turn up the AC and get the IV heater in here." I pried my eyes open with effort, meeting a gaze full of worry. "D-Delilah?" Delilah replied, "I'm right here, so just go back to sleep, Tristan. You'll feel better once you've rested."

As she awakened from the dream, the remnant of her artistic excursion lingered in her consciousness, reminding her of the profound beauty and transformative vigor of self-expression through art. Awakening from the dream, Hazel found herself back in her familiar studio, surrounded by the tools of her trade and the canvases waiting to be filled with her artistic visions. The memories of the dream library lingered in her mind, a gentle reminder of the boundless creativity and inspiration that resided within her.

A painful scream echoed throughout the forest. Tara jolts awake, drenched in sweat and a pounding headache. she frequently wakes up with the same question, every time she has this dream. ‘Why does it feel so real.’ Tara closed her eyes as a lone tear rolled down her rosey cheek, that dream is frequent lately and it terrifies her.