Dreams Are Visions

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Mason rushed out of the school, not waiting for Mabel to follow. He bolted past teachers who tried to catch him. He ran through the doors and into the streets. He NeEdEd MoRe. EvErYoNe NeEdS tO kNoW hIs TrUe PoTeNtIaL. He laughed psychotically as he ran into the street, causing two oncoming cars to swerve in a haste to avoid him and crash into each other. He ran to the nearest convenience store. "Oh, this place is convenient," he joked to himself, "Hey, is that a knife?! And a lighter?! Oh boy, I know what I could do with those." He grabbed the items and ran out of the store, blinded by his bloodlust. No one ever predicted the king of the school could turn into such a retched creature at his first sight of real death. He heard someone yell at him, but he couldn't make out what they were saying through the blood pounding in his ears. He ran all the way to his house and stood right in front of the door, making up a quick plan. Kill parents. Burn house. Dispose of bodies. Take all valuables. Hit and run complete. He grinned and entered the house. He walked into he kitchen to see his mother doing the dishes. He walked up to her, hiding the razor behind his back. "Mother~!," he sing-sang. His mother sighed, boy looking at him. "Yes, Mason?," his mother's uncaring and monotone voice made his whole demeanor change. His grin turned into an ugly frown. "One, two... Melatonin's coming for you..." His mother grumbled. "I wish." "Three, four... Baby, won't you lock the door?" His mother made a disgusted face, still not turning around. "You better not be trying to commit invest, young man." "Five, six... I'M DONE WITH THIS!" She turned around just in time to see the knife being guided into her throat by her own son. "Seven, eight... It's getting late... Close your eyes, sLeEp FoR dAyS!" He giggled maniacally and ran to his father's study. "Father~!" A gruff grunt came from within the room. Mason's grin stretched out from ear to ear as he pushed open the door. "Hush little baby~ Drink your spoiled milk..." His father gave him a weird look, then noticed the blood on his clothes. "Where did—" "I'm fucking crazy, need my prescription filled~" "You sure as hell do," his father said as he slowly walked over to him. "Do you like my cookies? They're made just for you..." "What are you t—" "A lItTlE bIt Of SuGaR, bUt LoTs Of PoIsOn ToO~!" He ran forward and slammed his knife straight into his father's gullet. A gurgling/gasping sound started to spew from the man's mouth until the life finally drained from his eyes. "Goodnight," he said simply and left the room. "One more thing," he added before he left the house. He turned lit lighter and held the flame under one of the curtains. He dropped the lighter on the floor once flames engulfed the fancy fabric. He laughed. Screams started to resonate inside his head. They got louder and louder until— blackness. White noise.

With a jolt, Mason jumped up from the bed, pulling the much needed air into his lungs. He could still feel the suffocating sensation of smoke slowly limiting his breathing to nothing. A dream. Not a nightmare, though. No, he never had any nightmares. He just woke up like this because of the suffocating, black smoke that seemed smothered him. He actually quite enjoyed this dream. He grumbled, rubbing his temples. He still had a headache from all of the commotion yesterday caused. He stared up at the concrete wall of the containment cell he was in. He was immediately tried as an adult without any trial involved since the camera's caught it all. He cut up the body into little pieces and put it in the cafeteria food. Hah, just kidding. His sister would have thrown up if he did. In a rush, they put the body into the dumpster out back of the school. Of course, CAMERAS! Oh, those beautiful things never cease to MAKE MASON WANT TO RIP OUT THE THROATS OF THE PEOPLE WHO CREATED THEM. Then again, they probably were already dead. Those guys must have never had any sense of personal space. He laughed to himself. Such a young man he was, stuck in a cold sell all because of one STUPID mistake. 'All killers make mistakes, I guess,' Mason thinks to himself, 'Except the Zodiac Killer.'

I know that it's as short as always. I'm just getting some major writer's block for this story. 😅

These Chains Aren't As Heavy As These Tears {Under Rewrite}जहाँ कहानियाँ रहती हैं। अभी खोजें