Screaming or howling

Tuesday 19th May 2009 On a journey back home with my dad, we both sat on the top deck of a roofless double-decker bus. I stood, leaning daringly over the front and almost toppled out as the bus screeched to an abrupt halt on cue with the irritated beeping that arose from a small, speeding <PERSON> bus as it raced past us near a roundabout. My courage unwavered, I continued standing and turning to my dad I asked, "So, we are going home now, right?" "No, we are going swimming." Came the reply. No! I thought, despairing over the lack of geography revision I had done for the exam. I do not have any time! As I said this, the bus encircled the roundabout which allowed me to get a good look at the gleaming clock tower. The black hands clearly reading quarter to eight. The face of the clock shone with a brilliant, bold yellow-orange gradient which was brightened by the dark blue evening sky. Despite this, we returned home and I angrily dashed out into a huge garden with houses opposite with cosy, warm yellow lights eminating from each window. I flopped down onto a wooden bench where my geography work lay and tears creeped from my eyes until the dam completely broke. I do not have time! I repeatedly chanted like a mantra, as I tried to lift up my work to throw it onto the ground. The unusual weight of it, however, prevented me from doing so; it was simply to heavy. Later, I found myself in the doorway of a dimly lighted bedroom. I saw a bed with white covers - plastic bags lay bundled together atop it, and there was a mirror that stretched the whole length of the wall opposite to where I was stood. From where I was standing I could see someone dressed in black, sat at the wall opposite the mirror -I could only see enough of the figure to conclude the he or she was sitting on a chair - but this person was not reflected in the mirror. I also heard a monotonous drone - the person was talking to me, but I could not decipher the words. And as if I could not, or was not allowed to step in to the room, I instead stood on tip toes to see if I could find a reflection but the bags on the bed seemed to grow and obscure my view with each new height that I reached. Suddenly, I felt a jolt in my chest and wheezed as pain struck it. I clasped at my chest screaming, "It feels like I am being ripped apart!" Invisible hands wrapped roughly around my arm and clutched my top directly where the pain was and started to drag me into the room. I could not see them, but I could feel and sense them on me. Screams tore helplessly from my lungs. Uuugh...I have my geography exam today...: (