www.whyville.net Dec 23, 2012 Weekly Issue



HotTrent1
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The Apparition: Part 2

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The nightmare happens again, except this time, I can feel the hand on my throat. I mean, not the normal "I don't feel a thing. It's only my imagination" dream. I mean, I actually feel this hand wrapping around my throat. I stop in my tracks as the shadow of a hand in the mist tightens around my neck. My airway is closing more and more as the shadow tightens and tightens around my throat. I try to scream, but nothing comes out. A tear runs down my cheek from distress.

"Hello there, princess," it tells me in it's raspy voice. I still can't tell if it's a male or female. It could be either one. This is the first time that it has spoken to me.

I attempt to run as it speaks to me.

"Where do you think you're going? I know that I can overtake you. You know that I can overtake you. So why even try? It's pathetic to even try!"

There's nothing to hit, other than its fist. It's a mist! How am I supposed to hit a cloud of mist? A jab at the shadow won't do anything. It slowly picks me up by my neck. I close my eyes.

"This is just a dream! This is just a dream!" I repeat aloud, trying to wake up, "Wake up, Emily! Wake up!" I shout, desperately trying to escape this horrific nightmare.

"You actually think that's going to do something, darling?" The mist chuckles.

I suddenly feel the acceleration of cutting through the air stop. I open my eyes to find myself and the mist dangling hundreds of feet in the air. Trying just one more time, I try to scream. Still nothing. Somehow, I felt out of breath, like I was suffocating. I'm just somehow still alive. Is it because it's only a dream? I'm very confused. What do I do? Where can I go? Will I wake up? I pay attention to my surroundings. It's windy, very windy. My blonde hair is flying in my face. It's cold. I feel goosebumps on me. I look down. The hallway goes on forever as far as I can see. There's only one hallway, just the one. The mist stares at me, as I stare at it right back in defiance. He drops me. I scream as I plummet to the floor of the endless hallway.

I wake up crying. What is happening to me? Why is this happening to me? What have I ever done wrong to deserve this? I curl up and ball. After I am done, and my face is no longer covered in red blotches, I walk downstairs to the living room to find Luke all alone.

"Where's Mom and Dad?" I ask him.

"They went to work," he replies nonchalantly.

I shrug as I walk to the kitchen and fix me a plate of eggs and roam upstairs, back to my room. I turn on my television and sit at my desk, checking my Facebook. A message notification popped up.

Juliet Bridgard: Hey boo! Howve u been?
Emily Lavender: Hey, Jules! I've been fine! Gettin' used to this cold weather!
Juliet Bridgard: Haha xD Its been so borin without u in Fl. We all miss u
Emily Lavender: Really? Who else liked me?
Juliet Bridgard: Hun, everyone like u. U was just 2 blind 2 c it!
Emily Lavender: Really? I always got the sense that hardly anyone liked me!
Juliet Bridgard: Doll, im sure tht ever1 likes u in Idaho.
Emily Lavender: I live in Ohio. And I'm sure that some people like me, it's just nobody ever really talks to me.
Juliet Bridgard: Babe its cuz ppl think tht ur gonna b snobby 2 them.
Emily Lavender: Why would anyone THINK that?
Juliet Bridgard: U look like u'd be one of those chicks that every1 h8s!
Emily Lavender: So you're telling me that I look like I'd be a..?
Juliet Bridgard: Ya! Ur prety an u looks like u'd b rude to every1 like those preppy snobs!
Emily Lavender: Well I'm not like that. From what I can gather from other people, I'm a pretty cool chick.
Juilet Bridgard: Hell yea! U r an amazin friend. Im sure tht when ppl get to know u, theyll understand.
Emily Lavender: Okay, hon. I'll play along.
Juliet Brdgard: Dont play boo! Just have fun and choose whts rite!
Emily Lavender: Alright, Juliet. I guess I'll just have to live with what you say.
Juliet Bridgard: Atta gurl! ;) K, so I have 2 go. Ttyl!
Emily Lavender: Later, girl!

I browse through my news feed and check in with my friends and family. They've all been doing fine. I wish I could say something, post something, anything! I'm just scared that people will think that I'm a freak. Who wants to be friends with a freak? Not many people. I wish I know how to handle this situation. It's very hard. I don't understand anything that's happening. An idea popped in my head. Why haven't I thought of this? I pull up Google. I type in "Apparition that looks like a mist and goes into dreams". I scroll down to see a lot about an Ectomist. So I Google searched that. I go to a site called "Paranormal Zone X". The topic of the page is "Shadow People". That about sums up what has been happening to me!

"Ectoplasm is an apparition that appears as a mist or fog. The mist usually has a swirling motion inside it. It can be black, white, or gray in color. Ecto-mist normally appears several feet off the ground, and can linger or move quickly at will. It's usually seen at cemeteries, battlefields and historical sites. It's believed to be the soul of a person that has passed on. Some people believe that a spirit will appear in a vaporous state before manifesting as a full-bodied apparition."

That is pretty accurate. I read on to discover that some people have said that they've been paralyzed and seen figures on top of them, or around them. This is scaring me. What if this happens to me? What will I do? Okay, Emily, calm down. This is all in your head. Nothing is going to happen to you. You're fine. This will all blow over soon. I tell myself this over and over until I find myself relaxed.

I close my laptop, turn around, and watch "Tosh.0". I really like funny shows for some reason. I guess I just like a good laugh. Mom comes home for her lunch break. So naturally, I roam downstairs to greet her. It's not really a greet. It's more like a "I-hope-you-have-food" type of thing. She has brought Luke and me some sandwiches from Subway.

"How's your day been?" Mom asks me. "It's been so-so," I tel

l her.

I still haven't told her about my nightmares, yet. In fact, I haven't told anyone about my encounters at all. I guess I'm too scared to tell anyone because they'll think that I'm a lunatic. They'll just throw me in the gutter and call me a freak for the rest of my life.

"Wait a minute, honey," my mother calls out.

"What is it, mom?" I ask.

She examines my neck, which I find a bit odd. Why would she examine my neck? I haven't done anything to it.

"Why is there a hand print on your neck?" she asks.

 

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