Archive for bed


Posted in Hopeful Stories, Stories with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on September 27, 2012 by Myra's Circle

The girl closed her sleepy eyes and plunged into a world of dreams and darkness.  The only time she was really free was when she was asleep.  There was no better time, she thought, than night.  Night strokes your head when you are crying and tells you, “Everything will be okay.”  Night shares un-whispered secrets, and keeps your darkest secrets from the death of your dreams.  Night listens to your secret dreams and thoughts and shares your excitement when nobody else knows that you are glad.  Night is always there for you, through everything.  When there is nothing left, when all people are doing is crying and being rejected, night is always there by your side.  Night is darkness to lean against, a friend’s shoulder to cry on.  Night will never disappear, never go away.  Whoever wishes to destroy night, would be your enemy.  If you had nothing left, and then somebody took away night too, where would you go?  Who would you turn to?  The girl’s dreams turn to nightmares, and when she wakes up screaming, the dark of night calms her down and she remembers that she was sleeping safely in her own bed.  There is nothing quite as comforting as the darkness of night.  When the girl wanted to do something different, to leap out and plunge into the unknown, she thought of night and was instantly comforted.  The only true friend, the only thing she could count on to always be there was night.


Posted in Hopeful Stories, Stories, True Stories with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on September 19, 2012 by Myra's Circle

Dreams are funny things, they are.  They make no sense.  People say that some dreams mean something, but I don’t believe them.  Dreams don’t mean anything.  They’re just dreams.  People say that bad dreams are signs of anxiety.  I suppose they are, when they are about what is making you anxious.  My name is Clara and I guess you could classify me as a professional dreamer.  Every night I dream a different dream.  I don’t really get dreams.  I once had a dream that I was on top of the Eiffel Tower, which was swaying like a balloon man you sometimes see outside stores.  There were three chipmunks with me, but I don’t know why.  For some reason, I had sunscreen on my hands, which meant I couldn’t hold onto the tower to keep my balance.  The tower tilted rapidly and I fell and next moment I woke up in my bed.  See what I mean?  Dreams are just so unpredictable.  Another time, when I was six, I dreamt of going to a hotel, where behind some curtains there was a yeti, which I befriended.  At the time, that dream was terrifying, but as it turns out, I got the yeti from a movie.  Anyway, I just love dreams.  They make you believe anything is possible.  I wish that were true sometimes, like when you’re upset and you just want to fly away from everything.  But I don’t know where you get dreams.  Maybe more creative people dream more than others?  But I dunno.  I’m just a kid, not a professional psychologist.