"Remember. If you die in this dream you die in reality" he says.

This is a story about a girl and a dream that becomes too real.


3. Belive me?

  "And then he was on my ceiling" I tell Christina. She rolls her eyes. "Yeah right" she says. "ITS THE GOD HONEST TRUTH!" I yell. "Shut up. My parents will hit you with the chancla if you don't quite" she says. I sigh and fall backwards. I put up my blond hair in a top knot. It's a force of habbit. I hold out my wrist and pull up my sleeve. "See, I say and show her "Freddy"" she stares in awe. Then she spits on my wrist. "Eww" I say. She tries to wipe it off with her thumb. It doesn't come off. "SEE!"I yell. "Shh! Chancla, remember?" She scolds. I nod. "I believe you had a dream but not that he is real." She says. "Still sleeping over tomorrow?" She asks. "Yeah" I say."good, but unfortunately I think you should eat at home. We don't have enough tamales for you." She tells me. I nod and pick up my bag. I swing it over my shoulder. I head out the front door. "Bye" I say too Loudly. "Shhh! Is the reply from the kitchen. I let myself out. I start my walk home. I stop at the crosswalk and let the cars go by. I feel a cold hand wrap around mine. I look. It's Freddy. Is he smiling? NO. 'He isn't real. He isn't real. He isn't real.' I tell myself. But he is real. I look up to his lifeless eyes. He looks back. I try to let go but he won't let me. He grasps my hand tighter and tighter. So much it starts to hurt. My eyes tear up in pain and he lets go. I fall to the cement. I look up. He's gone. "Quite the charmer aren't you?" I say aloud. I get up and continue my walk home.

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