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My Living Nightmare (standard:horror, 1257 words)
Author: Kayla BelleAdded: Jun 24 2005Views/Reads: 3424/2145Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
This is a true account of the events that happened to me on the night my friend commited suicide.
 



This story is true. I know there are skeptics everywhere who don't
believe in paranormal phenomenon. I was once one of those skeptics 
myself.  We've all heard the old “I was a skeptic too, until...” 
stories a million times but the truth is, that's exactly how it is. You 
can disbelieve all you want, but when it happens to you, you want 
nothing more than for people to believe you so you don't think that 
you're crazy. I think that's how the universe works. You say you don't 
believe in boogey men and ghost and then, eventually, when you least 
expect it, it shows you that everything you thought was true in life 
isn't. Things in fact aren't always what they seem and boogey men and 
ghosts do actually exist. You can believe my story or not, that's 
totally up to you, but my account of the supernatural is very real. I 
hope to never relive it again. 

I've always thought there were things out there that we can't see and
that evil does exist, but I never had any desire to bring my thoughts 
to life. I never wanted to open up the door to the other side with 
séances and ouija boards. I knew it was out there, but I never wanted 
to see any of it whether it be good or bad. Anyway, I have a friend, 
Mindy, who was definitely into all that stuff. Psychics, tarot cards, 
ouija boards, witchcraft, and the rest of the paranormal world always 
fascinated her. 

One of our good friends had died in a tragic car accident a little over
two years ago. Before it happened, Mindy claimed to have had a dream 
about what was about to happen three days prior to the accident. She 
told Sarah (our deceased friend) before she was killed about the dreams 
she was having. In her dream, Mindy saw Sarah in a fiery hell, 
screaming for help, while her skin melted off her body. Mindy said that 
her dream was so realistic that she would wake up in a terrible sweat 
with the smell of smoke on her hair. Of course, we all just thought she 
had some kind of strange complex that allowed her to have twisted 
dreams and never really thought anything of it. Well, needless to say 
I'm sure you've already put two and two together and figured out the 
rest but let me fill in the details for you. Three days later Sarah was 
driving home from one of our home basketball games. Severe storms had 
hit us all week long and the roads were still slick with rain from a 
prior storm that had occurred an hour and a half before the game had 
let out. She was coming around a sharp curve when her tires hit a water 
puddle and hydroplaned her off the road into a cluster of trees. Her 
doors were pinned shut because of the trees. Her gas tank started 
leaking and the running engine sparked a fire. She was burned alive. 
When the rescue crew finally arrived, Sarah was twisted in a way as if 
she had been desperately trying to break the window to free herself 
from the fiery furnace. The rancid smell of burning flesh could be 
smelled for weeks, even after the scene had been cleaned of the 
wreckage. 

We all had a hard time dealing with the death of our friend, but Mindy
took it harder than anyone. She had warned Sarah but of course no one 
believed her. Hell, would you have? Mindy went into a deep depression. 
I was the only one who really stuck by her side. All of our other 
friends gave up hope that she would snap out of it. Not me though. I 
would never give up on her. I did everything possible to try and cheer 
that girl up. She didn't want to be cheered up. She loved her misery. 
She would confide in me that she still had dreams about Sarah's death. 
She said she could see her burning alive crying out for Mindy to help 
her. She had started to get deep into the dark side. She was practicing 
séances, trying to communicate with Sarah. She just started becoming 
really weird and dark. I never once left her though. I was always there 
for her. 

Well, time passed and Mindy never snapped out of her state of mind. I'll
never forget my night with the dead. I had just gotten off the phone 
with Mindy, trying to talk her off the edge for about the millionth 
time, when I decided to go to bed. I woke up at 3:17 with an uneasy 
feeling. I got out of bed and went to the kitchen to let the dog out 
when I heard a very soft-spoken whisper, calling my name. My mother 
always works late so I thought maybe she needed help. I went to her 
room but no one was there. I went back to let the dog in and I heard it 
again. Chills ran all up and down my spine. I didn't know what was 
going on. I heard it again, the last time a little louder. It was 
coming from the basement. In her spare time, my mom likes to make 
wooden furniture and the basement is where her shop is kept. Since she 
wasn't in her room, I thought she was in the basement making something 


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