This one I intend to run with for a while So give me feedback, please. I haven’t edited much so some parts might not make any senses. Please tell me if you see a part like that.

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John awoke in a cold sweat, the nightmare that had plagued his thoughts and muddled his mind for so many years had just resurfaced for its nightly appearance in his dreams. In fact, he had become so accustomed to this recurring dream that he had trained himself into knowing that it was a dream, in fact, he had become so numb to this event sometimes he just waited till it was over with a blind indifference. The dream was a simple one, he was laying in his bed with his back to his room facing his wall. He could feel a presence behind him walking closer. When he was younger he would turn around and try and escape from the man now trying to grab him but found it hard to move. Once the man was able to grab him he would wake up in a shock. Most of the time his covers were thrown about everywhere, and he would be shivering with sweat. Now when this dream popped up in his head he was able to clearly see it as a dream. Unable to scream, move fast or punch. So he wouldn’t turn around to greet the man instead he would wait for the cold hand to touch his shoulder so he would jerk awake.
But tonight, tonight had been different. The familiar dream had cropped up in his mind toying with him in the same manner but soon was overcome by the realization that it, in fact, was a dream, not reality. But this time, the man or what John had always assumed to be a man seeing as he had never actually seen his face, didn’t grab him. No, the figure waited just waited until curiosity got the better of John and he turned around. There, there was a face. A good six inches from his own, he called it a face subconsciously but could it technically be classified as one. It was completely blank just a solid blank layer of skin soft and bright like a woman’s but with no features whatsoever. There was a nose that stuck out taking quick breaths seeing as its mouth was sewn shut. No lips were present, just it seemed as if a slit in the bottom of the blank face had been cut open and then had been sewn back shut. And the eyes the eyes were the worst, dark pits no eyeballs, no color, just pits, sunken pits that seemed to swallow all hope. Their dark blackness stared straight at John with no expression seeing as it could have none, no eyebrows not even a wrinkle on the pristine flesh. It was almost as if someone had pressed an iron on the faces and burned off every feature that would allow it to seem in any way, human.
John simply stared at his brain’s creation with a stupid fascination. He knew that he had a creative imagination but he never knew that it was capable of creating something like this. The only thing that still kept him in control was the fact that he knew that this was a dream. The next thing that happened took every bit of control he had to not freak out. The thing standing in front of him grabbed him forcefully just like every other dream but unlike every other dream, he didn’t wake up. Instead, it dragged him off his bed, as John lay limp his mind racing through every possibility. What was going on, why wasn’t he waking up? The questions flowed in without hesitation controlling every function he had left. Almost all the way across the room now John saw that this thing was dragging him towards his door. This has to stop now he thought, and with very little effort John found that moving his arm was surprisingly easy unlike in any other dream he had been in. Reaching up John had grabbed the doorway as the thing had tried to take him out but as soon as John had put up any resistance the thing gave up, and John woke up.
Now sitting upright in his bed John’s heavy breathing was only drowned out by the torrential downpour of the rain outside. Slowing his breath he focused on the rain, he needed to distract his mind from his own thought, to calm down. The rain beat down on the roof of his house in an uncontrollable pattern, loud and ferocious. In through the mount out with the nose, calm down he told homself. After his breathing had calmed down and the momentary panic and adrenaline rush had worn off, John was able to focus on the dream. A dream that had become so unimportant in his life that he had all but written it off. But now, now it had stepped it up a notch. Bring a face to the monster that had haunted him for years. The face, the face, John kept running it over in his mind. Thinking only brought more questions that he had no answers to. Why was its mouth sewed shut, why didn’t it have any features. What was with its eyes. Those soulless hollow pits. That seemed to want to drag John in and lock him in that darkness.
These thoughts swirled around John’s head at a million miles an hour, Not resting for a minute to give him some relief. John struck himself across the face hard, the resounding smack was loud, loud enough to have woken people up if not for the rain outside. The pins and needles of pain resonated from his right cheek. But his home remedy had worked, his brain switched gears to focus on the sudden increase of pain in his right cheek. Swinging his legs off the side of his queen bed, a gift or hand me down from his new stepmother John sat in a daze. Sitting for a couple minutes John did his best to forget about his new dream, but one thing kept creeping back up into his subconscious. That wasn’t his room. He had never really taken a good look at the room that he had been in either, as a child when he was to scared to think, or as a teen when he had chosen to just ignore the dream till he woke up. But now, as he had been dragged across the room by that thing he had gotten a good look at the surrounding room. It was small, maybe 6 feet wide and 12 feet long in total. The bed was in the back corner of the room far away from the door. The bed also was much smaller than his queen bed he now sit on. The bed seemed more like a child’s bed, a box spring bed bought at a cheap garage sale perhaps. On the wall with the door and directly across from the bed had been a small shelf housing many stuffed animals, that reached each side of the room from wall to door. The stuffed animals on the shelf looked worn, not new like the ones his grandmother bought him as a child, but used, dirty. But the amount and careful stacking of them showed that someone deeply cared about them. Looking up in his own room revealed his desk across from him, with his two monitors staring back and a blinking blue light coming from his 2000 dollar PC that he had built himself. Next to his desk a shelf housing knives, model cars, and planes he had built with his father when he was younger. A collection of books never read or had any future to be read. As he studied his own room another thought probed at his mind. Why was he able to recall the room he was in so clearly. He had not been focusing on the room while he was getting dragged out of it by the monster. The thought troubled him, as he thought more and more John realized that the room in his dream seemed somewhat familiar to him. Looking back through his memory at his previous room as his family had moved around quite a bit, but nothing seemed the same. The home in Virginia didn’t match when he lived there from age 2 to 6, and new york he could not remember at all being an infant, his family had only lived there for a short period of time, until rising rent forced them to move.
Now in Washington state, even the homes his parents had moved into before this one gave no resemblance to the room in his dream that he remembered from somewhere deep in his mind. Maybe a friend’s house or a sleepover. Although the idea was feeble at best seeing as at seventeen John hadn’t been to a sleepover in an immeasurable amount of time. He still chose to look back through his memories. Friends from elementary school popped up and he pictured each one of their homes with not a single match. Older friends from Virginia he tried his best to remember but had no luck. Maybe he needed more information about the room. Fully expecting the dream to have subsided into obscurity like all of his dreams do, as they recede back into the recesses of his mind, John probed his thoughts for more information and found to his surprise the dream and his memory of the room completely intact. There it was again John thought why was he referring to this room as a memory, why was this not just a dream, what made this different. Pushing the thought aside he whent back to studying the room from memory. The wall to the right of the stuffed animal shelf had been blank. No, not completely he thought, something had been written there in red, but the memory of the dream and his own knowledge wouldn’t provide an answer to the question. On the same wall in his own room stood the closet opened up revealing sweatshirts, fancy plaid button up shirts that were worn on special occasions, when he felt like it or when he needed to impress his mother. And his suit jacket, white undershirt, and pants with a belt hanging right beside it. The suit had been a present to himself that he had bought when bringing his date to homecoming, also, he had just made a great profit after a successful trading month, totaling 10 grand, five of which he had made in one day. It was a 1000 dollar dark gray sleek suit, perfect for business or casual. The suit had been tailored for him and fitted perfectly, a watch worth 5 grand had been given to him for his birthday from his grandfather. It was a solid gold Rolex, that complemented his yellow pocket square, and golden cufflinks. His arrangement of ties hung on the wall inside the closet. It would be a lie to say that John didn’t like to dress fancy and formerly, in fact, he loved the superior feeling it gave him of power. His other suits of lesser quality hung in the back, less attention was given to them, but they were still useful when needing something other than the same suit every day.
When looking back at his own past he didn’t feel remorse for kids who thought he was just a rich stuck up kid. He had worked just like his mom and dad for everything he had. He paid for gas through his trading expenses, paid for his own food if he wanted something extra. Even paid for his own plane tickets for vacations a deal he and his parents had set up, to teach him independence. John loved living in his big house with his mother and father who just like he had taken their careers and life into their own hands. His mother who started working in the fish and wildlife sect of Washington state’s governmental wildlife protection now ran the entire operation. His father who started off a port operation director in Tacoma now managed all ports in Washington state. They lived a fairly happy life in Olympia Washington, working mostly, all three of them. John had been an only child so he was used to solitude. He would be up in his room for hours working with his grandfather over the phone who had taught him everything he knew about trading. Together they managed a 20,000 dollar portfolio. Mostly his grandfather’s money who had made his own small fortune by trading. John did most of his trading solo but every once in awhile it was nice to get someone else’s opinion. Especially someone who knew much more than him. Legally, of course, John was technically not supposed to trade solo seeing as the age limit to do so was eighteen, but he had shown his grandfather trust and maturity until he let John invest on his own.
Looking back at the clock in his room brought him back to reality, 3:00am, tomorrow was Monday, he would have to go to high school. Just forget about all of it. John told himself, Next Monday is your eighteenth birthday. None of this will matter then. He had something very special planned and some big news to break to his parents. He was going to move out. John had already lined up a small one story home not too far away, but far enough that his parents wouldn’t be a bother. It sat in a sweet quiet little neighborhood, with an elementary school close by. The community seemed close-knit as everyone seemed to know each other, at least that’s the impression he had gotten when he had ridden through. Kids running around and extremely close to a convenience store, that would supply him with all his short term needs and only five minutes away from a big grocery store. Everything else was easily accessible on the highway. John had considered moving to a new state, but through his travels, he had never really liked a place as much as Washington. It’s rain did play a dower on his bipolar depression but he had ways of dealing with that. And as global warming made everything hotter everywhere else, Washington only seemed to benefit, less rain, hotter days, amazing scenery. Eventually, he knew the housing market would explode hear. Which was part of his plan, buy up as many plots of land and homes as possible. As real estate, John had learned early on was a great steady source of income. His parents owned two other homes which they rented out. John had always been included in anything monetary the family participated in, so he could learn to manage his own money one day. That day coming quite soon.
That simple promise he had made to himself that at eighteen he would move out is what John told himself every night and was the only thing still keeping him in school. Sure he had some rough patches with his depression when he had to stop going to school entirely but, through medication and counseling, he overcame that. He kept solid Bs in school, it was high enough that his parents didn’t mind, they didn’t see grades as an end all be all, but an F certainly wouldn’t do. And John didn’t have to work too hard to maintain the level. Which gave him more time to focus on his own investing. All this thought about his life and the excitement that had brought with it when he thought about his birthday, drowned out the dark thoughts about the monster and the strangely familiar room. As those thoughts faded slowly into the back of his mind, John lay his head back down onto his pillow and fell right back to sleep.

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