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He stood there, trying to understand it all. This is it, he thought. This is where it all ends.
He heard a click behind him. Closing his eyes, he screamed...
He awoke.
Blearily, he turned and looked at the clock beside him. 6.35. I'm late, he thought.
He got up, his back leaving a faint outline of sweat on the sheets. Folding the blanket, he thought about the dream. It seemed so real. How could a dream be so real? He shuddered and put the blanket under the pillow.
He remembered about Jenny. She should be waiting for him now at the station. He had promised to meet her so that they could attend the meeting together as they were both giving seminars it seemed to make sense
He reached for his mobile and dialed her number.
"Jenny, it's me."
"What?"
"It's me. I'll be late."
"Wrong number."
He dialed again. Slowly.
"Jenny-"
"Wrong number."
Could she have lent her mobile to her friends? He thought. But I just called her last night. Or maybe she lost her phone on the way and someone picked it up. Never mind, I'll find out soon.
He took off his boxers and searched for his jeans. He remembered hanging them behind the door last night before he slept. But they weren't there now. He looked inside the closet and under the study table. Perhaps Mum had put them to wash. Damn it, he thought. I hate it when she sneaks into my room.
Sighing, he took out a pair of Levi's from the closet and slipped into them. He couldn't recall buying the Levi's. They had to be Bens. Mother had mixed up again. But he felt comfortable in them. He hoped Martin wouldn't mind.
He glanced at the clock. 7.02. Enough time to brush his teeth. He went into the bathroom.
"What the-" He retreated, his legs knocked against the toilet. Falling, he grabbed the basin and balanced himself.
He looked at the face in the mirror again.
It can't be, he thought. He rubbed the eyes, held the face and pinched the cheeks. It can't be.
He got out of the bathroom. He picked up the phone, wanting to call anyone who would answer, but the battery was flat. He tried the door but it was locked. He looked for the door key in the closet's drawer but the key was missing.
He stood there, trying to understand it all.
A dream, he thought. A bad dream...
He awoke.
He heard a click behind him. Closing his eyes, he screamed...
He awoke.
Blearily, he turned and looked at the clock beside him. 6.35. I'm late, he thought.
He got up, his back leaving a faint outline of sweat on the sheets. Folding the blanket, he thought about the dream. It seemed so real. How could a dream be so real? He shuddered and put the blanket under the pillow.
He remembered about Jenny. She should be waiting for him now at the station. He had promised to meet her so that they could attend the meeting together as they were both giving seminars it seemed to make sense
He reached for his mobile and dialed her number.
"Jenny, it's me."
"What?"
"It's me. I'll be late."
"Wrong number."
He dialed again. Slowly.
"Jenny-"
"Wrong number."
Could she have lent her mobile to her friends? He thought. But I just called her last night. Or maybe she lost her phone on the way and someone picked it up. Never mind, I'll find out soon.
He took off his boxers and searched for his jeans. He remembered hanging them behind the door last night before he slept. But they weren't there now. He looked inside the closet and under the study table. Perhaps Mum had put them to wash. Damn it, he thought. I hate it when she sneaks into my room.
Sighing, he took out a pair of Levi's from the closet and slipped into them. He couldn't recall buying the Levi's. They had to be Bens. Mother had mixed up again. But he felt comfortable in them. He hoped Martin wouldn't mind.
He glanced at the clock. 7.02. Enough time to brush his teeth. He went into the bathroom.
"What the-" He retreated, his legs knocked against the toilet. Falling, he grabbed the basin and balanced himself.
He looked at the face in the mirror again.
It can't be, he thought. He rubbed the eyes, held the face and pinched the cheeks. It can't be.
He got out of the bathroom. He picked up the phone, wanting to call anyone who would answer, but the battery was flat. He tried the door but it was locked. He looked for the door key in the closet's drawer but the key was missing.
He stood there, trying to understand it all.
A dream, he thought. A bad dream...
He awoke.
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Okay I think I see why you couldn't really risk saying it on the site now. Thanks for the info Chris (however sick it is).
Right, I sent it
Yup still ehre, I'll sen it now
Okey dokey. Hope your still here RBS. Well here is my email...not very hard to guess really:
[email protected]
Dont mind when you send it really.
[email protected]
Dont mind when you send it really.
§Hø®Ý¥ ßL!ÝZ wrote:
> If i give you my email could you please email it to me RBS.
Yeah sure
> If i give you my email could you please email it to me RBS.
Yeah sure
If i give you my email could you please email it to me RBS. No I am not a perve I am just curious (no cocky remarks on that one).
§Hø®Ý¥ ßL!ÝZ wrote:
Why exactly are they called that
> then RBS you never explained...or will it never make it past the
> filter.
It will yeah, but the concept will probably get me banned.
Australians I thought they were Americans
Limp Bizkit ARE American, it's the Australian game "Limp Bizkit" that they are named after.
....anyways I still
> cannot believe that you are 12.
I am.
Why exactly are they called that
> then RBS you never explained...or will it never make it past the
> filter.
It will yeah, but the concept will probably get me banned.
Australians I thought they were Americans
Limp Bizkit ARE American, it's the Australian game "Limp Bizkit" that they are named after.
....anyways I still
> cannot believe that you are 12.
I am.
RastaBillySkank wrote:
> Ahhh who cares?!
Limp bizkit... are dirty... people... if they
> called themselves that on purpose... filthy Autralians...
Why exactly are they called that then RBS you never explained...or will it never make it past the filter. Australians I thought they were Americans....anyways I still cannot believe that you are 12.
> Ahhh who cares?!
Limp bizkit... are dirty... people... if they
> called themselves that on purpose... filthy Autralians...
Why exactly are they called that then RBS you never explained...or will it never make it past the filter. Australians I thought they were Americans....anyways I still cannot believe that you are 12.
Ahhh who cares?!
Limp bizkit... are dirty... people... if they called themselves that on purpose... filthy Autralians...
Limp bizkit... are dirty... people... if they called themselves that on purpose... filthy Autralians...
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