Winner of October: Fashion Nightmares

Done By: Win Su

STOP THESE TRENDS.

Have you heard of the term, “fashion nightmare?” To define it for you, it is when people wear the wrong clothes, wrong accessories, and wrong style. Do you have some in mind? Iʼve got 10 utterly nightmare-causing outfits straight from Hollywood.

10. One Style Too Often

This nightmare rates the lowest of all 10. Need I explain this? Taylor Swift

does an amazing job of this, I must add. Itʼs when some people get so comfortable, arguably too comfortable with their outfits that they buy the same thing, in every color and every pattern. One or two of the same, not a problem, but when you hit the 5 dress mark, stop. Taylor Swift must have a hundred of these one-color, knee-length puffed out skirt dresses. If you donʼt believe me, take a look.

She has them in brown, cream, clover green, yellow, and sequined black, and I remember seeing a gold one, a red one and two other cream ones, so that makes 9 right now. Iʼm guessing she has more.


9. Casual Much?

There is a thing we call dress codes. At events, we are actually required to dress appropriately. You canʼt just pull own a pair of shorts and a shirt and then drop a jacket over. Thatʼs just not right. And look at our perp right here.

Itʼs Jessica Simpson, notorious for dressing down. Weʼre all for effortless fashion, but isnʼt that a little too effortless. Itʼs more like no effort at all. Adding to that, the jacket is so loose and sloppy, it makes her lose those beautiful curves.




8. Too Big a But(t)

Getting fatter after having children used to be an excuse until Heidi Klum came along. Youʼd think moms would have a difficult time losing weight, and they do, but when dressing for events with curves and getting photographed in them, you seriously need to watch your angles. This particular angle makes Christina Aguileraʼs butt look so big she could sit on people and kill them. As for Heidi Klum, sheʼs on her fourth kid and still has a body like this. No excuses for Christina here.

7. Is 19 Is the New 50?

Why do starlets have to dress so old for their age?

If youʼre 19, put on a fun, flirty dress, something with color, print, and the right length. When youʼre young, you have a body. Rock it. Wear for it. Use it. As for color, go bold and beautiful, violet purple or hot pink. Donʼt turn into sad Emma Roberts here. That dress is not only sloppy, the color is too much “ladies who lunch,” rather than hot 19 year old teenager.

6. Donʼt Follow the Yellow Brick Road.

Hollywood stars have always been known for taking risks, but flying all the way to Oz is just wrong. Awful. Plain. Wrong. Now look here, we have red-head Dorothy who apparently grew up (but not out of her shoes) and the Tin Manʼs wife. I never knew the Tin Man got married to Tori Spelling. As for Rihannaʼs dress, it looks like she brought back the entire poppy field back to La-La Land. And look at Toriʼs face, she looks like she needs some oil for her joints, doesnʼt she?

5. Color Explosion

Weʼve all heard of failed art projects, but this is just so crazy. Look at poor Claire Danes. The pink dress was not half bad, but when you see the green stripe and the funny fungus sleeve, it is just way too much. Besides, donʼt you just want to tear that funny fungus sleeve off? The length, the draping, the colors, the center of interest, in this case, the disaster epicenter, itʼs just all wrong.

4. No-No Nude

Lingerie dresses are all the rage, but when it looks like youʼre not wearing anything at all, isnʼt it just scary? Imagine walking onto the red carpet and turning heads for all the wrong reasons. Salma Hayek, youʼre married to the Gucci designer, not the Victoriaʼs Secret owner. Put on some clothes. Youʼd think a couture wife would have on something
glamorous. As for the funky bottom, itʼs more funked up than funky.

3.Itʼs an Allergic Reaction
Anyone whoʼs watched Project Runway has seen all the weird materials they use to make dresses and clothing, but tissue paper? Really? Itʼs like Nicole Richie came well prepared for her allergies. I wonder what sheʼs allergic to. Maybe bad fashion? If so, sheʼll be using up the entire skirt. She came well prepared for the excessive amounts of tissue too. Can you see the “hidden” trash bags? She rolled them up and taped them onto her dress. Sneaky Nicole Richie, you.

2. Mental Breakdown Clothing

When you have a mental breakdown, thereʼs only one thing to do. Go buy mental breakdown clothing. Thatʼs what Gwen Stefani, Paris Hilton, and Mischa Barton did. Letʼs start with Gwen. I think her shrink told her to buy something representing emotions. Iʼm guessing she picked out nervous and trashy. As for Paris Hilton, being a heiress is very exhausting. Doesnʼt it look like she threw Hawaii onto her dress, for therapeutic properties, maybe? They say ocean waves and wales do calm you. And Mischa Barton. She has a mental breakdown every day.

That dress and that bag look like you partied at an art museum and dragged the art out with you. One piece of advice, donʼt go shopping when youʼre crazy. It scares people.

1.Coulrophobia

For those of you who donʼt know what coulrophobia means, it means fear of clowns. And after Rihannaʼs dresses, I certainly am. This wins the top nightmare position. The colored dots makes Rihanna look like a circus monkey with juggling balls. As for that radioactive shade of orange for her blazer and those stripes on the skirt, Rihanna looks like sheʼs carrying a portable big top.



Well, thatʼs it for my fashion rants for the time being. I hope you enjoyed it.

The Diamond Ring

By: Newton Tanskul

She was laughing again.
Anyone who said that laughing was medicine was dead wrong. It was more like a drug that took away lives rather than saving them.
I couldn’t take it anymore. Her laughter was screeching my ears. Everyone else seemed to be deaf, because they were laughing with her.
She was the most attractive girl in the whole school. And it wasn’t how well-endowed she was, or how beautiful her hair was when the wind breezed by against it. It wasn’t her deep, sultry hazel eyes either.
So what was it? That, I could not pinpoint. Her personality was disgusting. She acted so cute and innocent just to get all the boys on her side. And when all the boys started to sweet-talk her, trying to touch her, trying to get close to her…
I die a little inside.
I didn’t have her looks. I didn’t have her charm. I didn’t have her friends. It’s never like that. My life was a whole different story.
I had been through a lot of things. Life has thrown disastrous events my way, and I was still alive and strong. That’s what I’d like to believe anyway.
This girl wasn’t making it easier for me. Her name was Melissa. And she must’ve been the queen of all things sour. Sometimes I just wanted to walk up to her and stuff her mouth with a baseball to shut her up. Or when she was flirting with one of the guys, I’d tell him how she has a bad case of something in places he wouldn’t like to hear of. Other times, I just felt like pushing her down the stairs.
I hated her that much.
Well, if you’ve gotten this far you’re probably thinking I’m envious of Melissa. And you’re right. I am. If I’ve learned anything in biology class, then it’s that only the fittest of animals survive in this world. We all thrive in competition. We all have to adapt to our surroundings. That whole concept fits my situation.
And that’s where this gets complicated. Sure, I’m used to life’s cruelty. But I’m like a fish that’s looked up at the sky and wondered how life would be like if it was a bird. Melissa was this flamboyant crowned pigeon that wasn’t afraid to show off its beauty, and I was this little trout that could only hope for a better life than the dark depths of my own ocean.
What made Melissa tick? What made her better than me? She must know she’s tormenting me. When she laughs, she knows I can hear it. She knows I hate it. But she does it just to antagonize me until I die. There must be something that makes her oh-so-desirable…
I’m walking down the hallway one day and I hear a bunch of people gossip about Melissa.
“Dude, Melissa’s diamond ring is HUGE!”
“Tsk, I wish I had that kind of money.”
I don’t know what goes through my head…but I’m sure that this diamond ring of hers is going to garner her more attention than I could ever hope to attain for myself.
That’s when the nightmare begins.
I start wearing my mother’s rather large earrings to school. I’m not so sure why.
Everyone who walks past me stares at them, whispering to each other on how out of place my earrings are. I ignore them and make my way to my locker.
Society is strange. Everyone seems to worship Melissa’s large ring. She’s had it for many weeks now, and the more I see it, the more I grow to envy her.
As if fate was sadistically toying around with me, she’s in front of my locker, talking to one of her friends. Her hands are waving in the air as she talks incessantly. And on one of her fingers…the diamond sparkles all the way across the school corridor, lighting up the entire place, outshining the fluorescent lights on the ceiling. The diamond has its own level of grandeur, it’s like another Melissa. It’s the leader of all the inanimate objects in the world, much like Melissa dominating everyone else with her soulful eyes. I’m not sure if it’s the ring or Melissa herself that kills me more. All I know is that I can’t stand seeing the two of these things together.
It’s as if they’re saying, “The world is ours. And you can’t stop us.”
***
Later that day, I’m sent out of the class for sleeping during the lesson. It’s not my fault the teacher’s fat and boring.
I decide to go to the restroom and fix my hair. I don’t expect anyone to tell me I’m pretty with my hair down, but I go ahead and untie it anyway. My mother always said that I should be the one who’s able to look in the mirror every morning and tell myself that I’m beautiful. It’s got to be me saying that first before anyone else can.
As luck would have it, fate continues to toy with me. Who else do I find in the restroom but Melissa? She’s doing her make-up at this hour, when she’s supposed to be in class. I bet if I did that I’d be labeled as ‘desperate’. But for Melissa…anything she does is justifiable. It’s not fair, but who am I to question such logic?
For some reason, she doesn’t notice me standing at the door of the restroom. She’s lost in her own delusion that the world revolves around her and nobody else. She takes out her eyeliner and starts to apply it ever-so-slowly. And as her hands are moving, my eye catches the diamond ring on the finger. It’s mocking me, scintillating in its own pride.
Melissa’s doing this to make herself look better than me. She knows I’m there. She’s just doing this whole make-up thing to justify her place in society in comparison to mine.
I feel a murderous rage take over me. My vision goes red, and suddenly the restroom isn’t there anymore. It’s just Melissa, applying her make-up, and nothing else but a red background. Maybe if I got my hands on that ring…just maybe…I could be like her. Maybe the world would make so much more sense if it encircled my finger, and not hers.
My vision continues to boil red, so blood-red that I can hear my heart pumping out more blood than it should. Nothing else is on my mind but me wearing that ring of elusive beauty, to acquire a new place in this cruel society; to be part of something I hate with a passion.
And I thought society was strange. Perhaps it was I that was the stranger. It doesn’t matter now. That ring is mine.
A small little voice tells me not to do what I think of doing. But I treat that voice exactly the same way as I treat everyone else and ignore it. Without a moment’s delay, I slowly stagger towards Melissa.
She turns around, a look of surprise on her face, as if she’s only just noticed me. I quickly decide that she’s faking this expression, that she’s probably going to say ‘Oh, I didn’t notice you there, I was busy showing off my superiority’ or something along those lines. But I can’t let her say such a thing. I lunge forward.
Her eyeliner, and all of her make-up, transforms into a crimson red.
***
When I get to my bedroom, I’m holding the diamond ring in my hand. I’m breathing heavily, gasping for breath. I don’t remember how I even got home. I don’t know why I’m trying to catch my breath. But I don’t care. The ring is finally mine.
I’m gripping this circular object of godlike power in my hand. I don’t know why I’m not wearing it. A jumble of thoughts crosses my mind, but I can’t concentrate on them. I collapse onto my bed from an inexplicable exhaustion and fall into a dark, but peaceful slumber.
When I come to, it’s midnight and there are flashing red and blue lights outside my window. Rubbing my eyes from the drowsiness, I get up to look what’s outside. To my horror, there is a police car parked just next to my lawn. Before I can comprehend my situation, two policemen kick down the door of my room and push me up against the wall. They slap on cold, uncomfortable handcuffs around my wrists.
“Alice Everton, you are under arrest for the suspected murder of Melissa Winters. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.”
Cops…I should’ve known they’d catch on. But I’m not afraid of them. Not even as they call me a sad little girl when they see how dark my room is, even with the lights on. Not even as they forcibly push me down the stairs and out into the cold, snowy night. Not even when they tell my father that I’m going to face severe consequences as they push me into the police car.
Before I know it, they’re driving me to the local police station. They were probably going to lock me up in one of their cells or something, but for some reason, the thought of a jail cell reminds me of my own room. Dreary, depressing, lonesome…but a place of solitude. I figure it wouldn’t be so bad.
The cops are talking about me as they drive, but I really don’t care what they say. I’ve heard it all before. They complain about kids today and the stuff on TV that’s allegedly corrupting our pure, innocent minds. They wonder how people like ‘this girl’ here lives with herself in such a condition. And then they start badmouthing my parents.
These cops sound like the people from school. They’re all the same.
I sit silently in the backseat, wondering what’s going to become of me. We’re nearing the police station—it’s only a matter of time before I’m all locked up.
The car stops at a red light. I notice a pair of bright white lights coming from the right side of the car. The pitch-black shadows of the night make it hard to see, but I could’ve sworn it was a speeding vehicle. A massive one.
The lights get closer and closer, two orbs illuminating the concrete road increasing in size. The lights are so bright they blind my vision. It reminds me of the ring…
And that’s the last thought that crosses my mind before fate plays its last trick on me. A truck crashes into the side of the police car, hurling it into the air, causing it to spin violently in the night sky. The police car crash lands back onto the road, transforming into a huge inferno of destruction.
***
I wake up screaming in the middle of the night. Now I’m really gasping for breath. My body is completely drenched in sweat.
I take a few moments to recompose myself. It had been a dream. I should’ve known.
Thinking back, everything then seemed to have moved so fast…too fast. It was dead obvious it was a dream…those things could never have happened in real life! I’d be a fool to think it had been a reality.
Letting out a sigh of relief, I lie back down onto my pillow. Life wasn’t so bad. Even if modern society proved to be a beast from hell, I had to cherish what I had in the present. Something makes me see life through that new light. It’s as if I had been resurrected with new insight. I had to be happy with what I had.
And in a long time, so far back I can’t even remember, I smile to myself for the first time in ages. Things weren’t as bad as I had thought they’d be. Strange…I can’t seem to put into perspective what gave me this burst of optimism.
I notice something glimmering on the bedroom floor, reflecting the moonlight outside the window. I get up from my bed to examine it.
I smile again and think: The world is mine. And no one can stop me.
I pick up the diamond ring from the floor and put it up on my shelf.

Somebody Else's Nightmare

By: Opal Lin

I tried my best to hide it. I really did. But the bags under my eyes showed my lack of sleep from the night before. I even took three pills of Valium and I still managed to toss and turn the whole night for eight hours straight. I shuddered; I couldn’t fall asleep now. I just couldn’t. But then again, I haven’t had much sleep the night before. Five minutes won’t kill me. It won’t.
“Isabella!” Rose Bendel snapped.
My eyes flew right open.
Rose sighed dramatically. “You know, I would’ve charged you thousands of dollars worth for doing your hair and make-up but since you’re my best friend and it is your wedding and I’m the maid of honor, I’ll let it slide,” she teased.
I smiled then frowned once I saw my reflection. “Rose? Could you put apply more concealer to mask my dark circles?”
Rose gave me a disapproving look and pouted, “You look beautiful.”
I wasn’t buying it so she quickly added, “And today’s going to be just perfect.”
“You think?” I asked, sounding hopeful.
“Of course,” Rose smiled back at me. “What could possibly go wrong?”
My parents’ mistakes, I mused. My parents’ mistakes. I rubbed my temples slowly as I allowed myself to flashback to the day of my parents’ wedding – second wedding. I remembered
the fire – all those flames. I gritted my teeth and stared outside the window to distract myself from the ongoing reminisce. Outside, I saw a passerby enjoying the late summer breeze. I looked at him longingly, wishing for a slight moment that I was him. But no, today was the day of my wedding. I couldn’t afford to lose half my guests in the flame like my parents did. I shook my head and gripped the chair tightly to stop me from digging my fingernails into my flesh again.
- - - - - - - - - -
Rose placed the heavy gown on the floor so that I could step inside. I felt a sudden shrill of excitement and shivered with joy. Rose carefully pulled up the gown and started to button the buttons on the back of my dress. While buttoning the third button from the bottom, Rose froze.
“Rose?” I tapped my heels impatiently, “we don’t have much time. Could you hurry up and button all my buttons, like, now?”
Seeing that Rose wasn’t going to make any further movements, I twirled around and I exhaled deeply. Ping!
“What in the world?” I wondered out loud.
Rose’s jaw dropped in horror. I turned around to see a small crack on the mirror and I looked down to see a white button – the exact button from my gown. At that moment, I felt sick. I then realized why Rose was turning even paler. My gown won’t fit me. It won’t –
“Bella darling,” a voice called out. “The bridesmaids are here to get you!”
- - - - - - - - - -
The church was decorated entirely with white and gold. Just like I have always dreamed of. I was busy admiring the transformation of the church to notice that one of my bridesmaids had shoved a bouquet into my hands. After a minute later of admiring, I looked down to examine the bouquet of white tulips. My lips started to tremble and before I knew it, I was barking at my bridesmaid in the middle of the church.
“I said I wanted white lilies not white tulips. Do you ever listen?” I demanded.
“I-I’m sorry, Isabella but the store ran out of–”
“Don’t,” I said, closing my eyes and lifting up my left hand. Right now, I was determined to walk down the aisle with my head held high, say my vow before any more mistakes were made. One was enough. I threw my tulip bouquet onto the floor and started to stomp on it. There was an uneasy silence and I saw that every guest had turned around to watch me with idle curiosity. I plastered on a smile to hide my boiling humiliation.
I quickly plucked the lily that was pinned to my hair and held it with both my hands to replace it with my ruined bouquet. I sighed. This was not good. I made up my mind to pace down the aisle but a cold hand gripped on my shoulder before I had a chance.
“Isabella!” Rose hissed, “Your gown is ruined. You can’t walk down the aisle with half of your back exposed!”
“What other choice do I have?” I hissed back and I hurried down the aisle with the consequence of tripping over my 5-inches heels. Landon and the priest quickly rushed to my side to help me get up.
“I’m fine, I’m fine!” I yelped, shrugging off their helping hands.
The priest stared at me in disgust but I didn’t feel ashamed, I only glared back.
“Just start the ceremony already,” I clenched through my teeth.
The priest then cleared his throat and began the ceremony, “Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of this company, to join together this Man and this Woman in holy Matrimony…”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Sweat started to form and I was getting impatient. In the corner of my eyes, instead of seeing Landon’s beautiful face giving me a disapproving look, I saw him looking directly at Rose. My eyes darted back and forth between them. I saw Rose smiling back. My nose flared. Is my perfect Landon cheating on me? Maybe he wasn’t so perfect after all. Nobody is. Except me.
“Isabella Stanzini, will you take Landon Chandler to be your husband, your partner in life and your one true love? Will you cherish his friendship and love him today, tomorrow and forever? Will you trust and honor him, laugh with him and cry with him? Will you be faithful through good times and bad, in sickness and in health as long as you both shall live?”
“I… won’t,” I said, emphasizing the word “won’t.”
“What?” Landon blurted, dropping my hands.
“Landon, Rose,” I addressed them sweetly, “is there anything you would like to tell me?”
“What are you talking about?” Landon’s eyebrow knitted in concern.
“I saw you and Rose giving each other secret smiles just now,” I accused him. “What was that all about then if you’re not cheating on me?”
Landon laughed at me but did not deny. Rose stepped forward and offered, “I can explain.”
She turned around and faced me, making sure that her back was to the guests. “Bella, Bella, Bella,” she shook her blond locks. “Always one step ahead of everyone else. You just have to always be the best in everything don’t you? You just had to have everything better than your best friend – me. But now, guess what? I’m one step ahead of you because now I have something that you don’t have.”
I stopped staring at my cuticles to look at her straight in the eye, “what?”
She smiled wickedly at Landon and whispered, “I’m already two months pregnant with Landon’s child.”
“What?” I screeched, alarming all the guests.
“How do you like that now, Isabella?” Rose challenged. “I’m finally a step in front of you. Seven months from now, I’m going to be a mother the child that’s growing inside of me. What about you? Seven months from now is a long time. By then, you could be a jail arrested for drunk driving. Or perhaps a mental rehab facility? Because that’s where you, and the rest of your family belongs. You can try to hide it Bella, but we all know your family has a history of psychos.”
“Just shut up already!” I was losing it and I could feel it. The temper was burning hotter and hotter each and every growing second, “now it’s personal.” I was about to lunge towards Rose when my bridesmaids grabbed both my arms and legs.
“Isabella!” Apparently, they too, were aware of my anger issues.
“You need to calm down,” one of the bridesmaids whispered. “You know that you’re making a scene, right?”
I stopped throwing my current tantrum to look at my guests. They fell silent with fear in their eyes. I then realized I had to make a decision: to calm down. I smoothed my gown and my now messy hair, and asked the bridesmaids politely to let me go. They hesitated but seeing now that I was perfectly calm, they agreed.
I kicked off my heels and walked barefoot towards Landon and Rose with an apologetic look wiped across my entire face.
“Landon, Rose,” I addressed them again. “I apologize for my reckless behavior. To express how deeply sorry I really am, I am going to call off this wedding.”
“I told you she’d come to her senses,” Rose muttered to a now pale looking Landon.
“I did come to my senses,” I agreed. “Have a pleasant day everyone.”
I made my way over to the backdoor and looked back to catch a glimpse of everyone. A last second decision was made and I made a sharp turn to head towards a table full with candles. With a flick of my wrist, I knocked down half a dozen of the candles, causing the table to catch fire. I stood mindlessly in the middle of the church, barely glancing at the fleeing of the guests. I smiled to myself, admiring the growing of the dancing flames alone in the dark.
I was no longer the girl who was afraid of imperfection; everything was perfect because now, it was not my nightmare – it was somebody else’s.

The Girl of Nightmares

By: Augustine Lesiuk

Does falling in love during Halloween bring bad luck? Anthony had fallen in love in almost every season of the year. His first girlfriend dated him during Christmas and dumped him before the New Years. Girlfriend number two dated him during Valentines and in the end; she gave him a box of broken hearts. His latest girl friend ditched him during an all night Easter eggs hunt.
Sitting in a McDonald’s store with his friend, Anthony described his latest break up.
“She left me in the park all night and she took the flashlight with her. It took me till morning before I found my way back home,” said Anthony.
“Dude, you’re the unluckiest guy in the world,” said Dave.
“I know, but I’m looking forward in finding another girlfriend before the Halloween dance,” said Anthony.
“Is it a habit for you to get dumped during the seasonal holidays?” said Dave.
“Hey, how do you know I’ll get dumped this time? I might actually get a keeper,” said Anthony.
“Well, who are you planning to go out with this time?” said Dave.
“Elizabeth” said Anthony.
“Elizabeth? That pale creepy girl in our grade?” said Dave.
“Why not? She’s hot” said Anthony.
“I’m not complaining, it’s just that she seems really strange. I’m afraid what she’ll do to you when you get dumped by her,” said Dave.
“When?” said Anthony.
“Sorry, I mean “if”,” said Dave.

The next day when school started, Anthony went straight to Elizabeth’s locker and waited for her. When she came, he asked her to dance with him in the Halloween dance. Not surprised, she immediately accepted.
During the week before the Halloween dance, Anthony began to wonder if asking Elizabeth out was a good idea. Sure she’s hot, but like what Dave said about her, she was really strange. She tried to follow Anthony where ever he goes, stuck close to him like a shadow. She would mumble to herself half the time whenever Anthony tried talking with her. And when he wasn’t looking, she kept trying to pull strands of his hair. He started to feel irritated.
Finally on the day of the dance, Anthony was dressed up in a suit. He waited for Elizabeth in the dance room while everyone else danced. After waiting for her longer than he wanted, he decided to dance with someone else.
“Hey, wanna dance with me?” Anthony asked the girl who was sitting next to him.
“Sure, why not?” said the girl.
While Anthony was dancing with the girl, he didn’t notice Elizabeth entering the room. Once she saw Anthony dancing with another girl she stared at the couple with fueling anger. She immediately left the dance room.
Outside, Elizabeth pulled out some sort of a flask filled with green liquid. While chanting some sort of (repetitive) a spell, she put some of Anthony’s hair inside the flask. A puff of smoke came out.
“Well Anthony, I hope you enjoy this dance. It’ll be the last dance you’ll ever enjoy,” she said with a (an evil) grin.

The next day, Anthony got up from his bed with a headache, as if someone hit him. When he walked to the mirror he screamed at the top of his lungs. All of his hair was (hairs were?) gone. His bald head was shiny enough to reflect his reflection.
“Wh-what happened?” said Anthony.
Looking at the clock next to his mirror, he realized that he was going to be late for school. He quickly changed his clothes without a shower. Then Anthony hid his bald head with a bandana. After that, he grabbed his bike and began riding.
The moment he left his neighborhood, the front tire of his bike wheel burst. Anthony fell on his side into a muddy sidewalk. His clothes were ruined.
“What’s going on? Why is this happening to me?” said Anthony as he got up.
Deciding that he was in no condition for school, he began to walk back. On his way back he found a McDonald’s shop. He was hungry so he ordered a cheeseburger for his breakfast from the counter. After swiftly getting his order he left the store and took a bite out of the cheeseburger. Suddenly he felt something explode in his mouth. He pulled his burger out of his mouth and found half a cockroach on top of the meat. He immediately spat the burger out.
Suddenly his cell phone rang, Dave was calling him.
“Dude what happened? Are you sick or something?” said Dave.
“I have no idea, strange things are happening this morning,” said Anthony.
“Strange?”

“Yeah, I woke up to find myself bald.”
“What? How can that be? Look, I have to get to class, good luck with whatever problem you’re having, ok?”
After Dave hung up, Anthony dumped his burger and grabbed his bike. His torment had only begun.
Ever since that dreadful morning, his whole week had been a living nightmare for Anthony. In a few short days, pimples covered his entire face. In school he was bullied by the people who used to like him. All of his quizzes and tests had grades below average no matter how much he studied. His volleyball games were horrible as the ball always somehow hit’s him on spots where it hurts. By the end of the week, he was in terrible shape.
One day he saw Elizabeth and thought that maybe all of his bad luck had been her doing. So he waited in front of her locker for a chat.
“What did you do to me? You did something didn’t you?” said Anthony.
“I have no idea what you are talking about,” said Elizabeth.
“Look, I’m sorry for dancing with another girl, but what you’re doing to me is pure torture,” cried Anthony.
“What am I doing to you?” said Elizabeth.
“I don’t know, but it’s obvious you did something,” said Anthony.
“If you want my opinion, this looks like something you did to yourself,” she said.
“What?”
Elizabeth remained silent. It was obvious that she wasn’t going to help him. So she turned her back against him and started walking away.
“What are you?” said Anthony.
She stopped and looked him in the eye. “Your newest nightmare,” she said.

Nightmare

By: Monditz Leramorn

Prologue

A box that can grant any wish. The legend states that this box is hidden from people’s eyes and has a will of its own. One who seeks power shall never find it. This box contains the power to change anyone’s life and here it is in my hands.

March 14th

The closing ceremony of the school has come to an end. Summer break began as my 2nd year in high school ended. The cherry blossoms are in full bloom at the time of the year. As I walked pass the trees I saw something that changed my life forever.
A box that could grant any wish? Hah you got to be kidding me no one would believe that this kind of box even existed in the legends, and suddenly here is it in my bedroom. This is got to be a prank from someone I know. As I picked up the box I looked at it and began to feel dizzy and hear voices flowing in my head. Do you know what reality is? Can you make a difference in the world? What is your wish? This must be a hallucination I must be imagining things I repeated to myself multiple times as I put the box on the shelf and fell asleep.

Chapter 1 (Reality or a dream??)
Its morning as the alarm clock told me as I stretched myself on the bed. It was summer vacation and nothing to do. I hopped out of bed and went in the bathroom, got changed and left the house. The weather was so hot burning hot; the sun up so high in the sky shining down on everyone. I walked to the nearest arcade in town as I passed by……. She just suddenly walked up to me and whispered in my ears. You have something that is rightfully mines hand it over and I won’t kill you. She had a knife in her hands; I reacted quickly and dodged the first thrust. I ran away as fast as my feet could take me and here I am in front of the school gate.
My heart won’t stop beating as terrified as I am I looked around to see if I was followed by anybody. When I turned around again I saw her walking toward me.
“I don’t have anything you want; I think you got the person mistaken. Please calm down we can talk about this right?” I shouted out the word that was in my mind at that moment.
She walked closer and closer while I had no more energy to move I just sat there looking at her move closer to me. She took the knife and stabbed me right on the heart. I thought to myself, such misfortune. What did I do to deserve this? I felt the pain spreading throughout my body then everything became black.

Chapter 2 (Never ending dream)
I woke up shocked. “I’m not dead” I was so surprised to see no wounds at my chest. Nothing has happened. I looked at the calendar and the watch it was still the first day of summer vacation. It was only a nightmare. I felt relieved then I heard the door bell ring. *ding dong ding dong* I got changed quickly and ran down the stairs and opened the door. There she is right in front of me, the exact same girl as in my nightmare standing right in front of me.
I ran into the house as I saw her as quickly as I can. I ran into the kitchen and picked up a knife and hid it in my pants. Then walked back to the front door, “Come in” I said politely to her. As she walked into the house she said nothing and walked straight to the living room. Then right at that moment I saw her carrying a bag with her. I was a container in the bag my mind went blank as I thought of the nightmare I just had then everything just gone black again.
When I gained consciousness I saw myself lying on the floor of my living room holding a bloody knife. I had stabbed the girl. I looked inside the plastic bag, it was only a note and a gift. I opened the note quickly. It seemed the girl just moved into our neighborhood yesterday so she wanted to bring a gift…….
The world around me started to fade away as I was sitting on the ground. Everything went black again.

Epilogue (The truth revealed)
I woke up again on the same day and same time as I did. I remembered everything the time I got killed and the time I killed the girl. What is the truth frustrated in all ways I picked up the black box on my shelf and threw it on the ground real hard. The box vanished out of my sight and I fell unconscious. I woke up again it was the same day as everything happened. I tried to think it over many times can this still be a dream. I ran down stairs and then the girl came in again.
You can never tell a dream apart from reality cause there alike you’ll never be able to escape from the whirlwind of time because you are just a character in a story.

Last Night's Dream

By: Pulitz Lertamornthep

A dream is a dream no matter how you wish it to become true, and they are meant to stay that way. Dreams may show you the embodiment of your precious desires, but at the same time it can also show you the embodiment of your gravest fears. No human is without desires or fears, therefore all humans have dreams…

A clear bright flash of white light travelled the sky, even though it was still morning it could be seen clearly as if it was night. That marked the starting point of all the events that followed.
That morning, I was running late for school and thinking of a way that may help me in getting to school on time. While running I thought, ‘I just wished those worm holes in my dreams were real…’ Just as I was about to drop thoughts to think of an excuse for being late, bright white lights blinded my eyes. ‘Whoa! What was that?!’ Waiting for my vision to return, I hear the voice of the school’s disciplinary president, “What are you doing standing there! I’m going to close the school gates now, if you insist in standing there.” ‘Whaa... I must be hearing things,’ my vision returns, ‘then, I must be hallucinating, too.’ I stand besides the school’s wall, near the front gate of the school. “I’m warning you, this is not a joke, you ARE late, and I AM closing the gates.” Without time to thinks things further, I quickly ran for the closing gates and before I know it I’m in my homeroom on time.
Time flew by, as I dazed over how I got to school, nearly through my first period classes, until… CRACK! Right in front of my eyes, a student, often referred to be the trouble student of the class, snapped the table in front of him with his bare fist. Some classmates shrieked at the sight, while others just turned around and stared stunningly at the scene. Moments before, while I was in a daze, I have heard the teacher utter some warnings at the student, which may have ticked the student off in some way, but in front of my eyes was a scene beyond what my mind could comprehend. The table top, though wooden, the structure of the table was made out of metal, where even those were bent in half. The student, whom snapped the table in half, laughed excitedly, “Hahahahaa… So that wasn’t a dream after all, I do have the superhuman strength, given to me by the Gods.” Moving up to the teacher and punched the blackboard, he shattered the blackboard and created a hole, challenging the teacher, “Hahahahaha, teacher do you want some of this? Huh?” At that moment, our class self-proclaimed defender of justice stood up to the delinquent, like a hero in any cartoon, brought the delinquent down to his knees, proclaiming, “If your dreams held true, then so must mind to stop you evil doers.” ‘Dreams… is that so,’ I thought. From the commotion, I slipped out of class, pretending to be hysterical. I wanted to check something out, so I quickly dashed to the area behind the gymnasium.
I tried imagining several fantastical stuffs over the top of my head, things that I wanted come true, but nothing appeared except for the worm hole that was able to bring me almost anywhere. ‘Though the worm hole is shocking enough, what was the condition for it appearing? Because I saw it in last night’s dream?’ Having thought of that I tried remembering the dream I had last night. Only bits and pieces, came to mind. ‘Well… it is only obvious, we have dreams every night. We just don’t remember most of them.’ “Ah!” I recalled dreaming something about fire. At that moment, my hands were set ablaze. ‘Whoa!’ I thought, and then calming myself down the next moment, ‘Can’t have myself shocked at everything that happens, now can I. Hmm… and yes not only fire… magic?’ I tried to imagine, from what I remember of my dreams. There the wind danced as I command, water floated in mid-air, and earth flipped. Then I thought, ‘Why in the world would I need magic? Unless…’ My head hurts as if trying to forget something that had happened, the reason why I overslept this morning… ‘If anything that was dreamed of last night could be made reality, then…’ Before I can cut back my thoughts, shadows loomed the skies and I can hear chaos coming from inside the school, as everyone started to realize what they are now able to do. And as I turn around… I am faced with my gravest fear.
There was once I time I had wished dearly for all my dreams to become true, but now… after all that have happened, I am starting to have second thoughts.

A Frankenstein in my Soul's Mirror

By: Kamolwan Panyasevanamit

along the dark hallway
dead knights in once shining armor
old witches' cats -
they don't scare me

memories of my living past
cut deep like broken glass
they haunt and taunt me
of my own foolish mistakes

nothing terrorizes me worse than myself
knowing there's a monster within me -
knowing that monster can possibly..
be me.

no longer does sun above head mean safety
no longer does company mean protection
no matter where i go,
this horror is within me

how do i escape myself?
for i am my own worst nightmare.

A Crumpled Letter

By: Nathaphon Yu King Hing

Dear Miss Felicity,

Twenty two years and seven months and twelve days.

I hope that time has treated you well. As people used to tell me, “Time heals all wounds.” Even mine. Do you remember me? Because I remember you.

I remember, back when nine letter words were complex machinery and division of numbers a foreign tool, I remember what you did. Back when you were a teacher. Back when I thought you were a teacher. See, Miss Felicity, I used to have this naïve idea that teachers not only taught their students but guided them too. That they held hands to cross the street and they teach children how to add and subtract and multiply and divide. Especially divide, because everyone always has trouble with that.

But you taught me something else.

You taught me that it wasn’t alright to have spelling mistakes, because any student should know how to spell “enormous” and “cheesecake” and “nightmare”. You taught me that it wasn’t alright if I got my paper back with red marks all over it. You taught me that an essay must have five paragraphs, introduction and conclusion and three body paragraphs. You taught me that it wasn’t right to write the letter “y” with a curly tail. You taught me that adults lie. That adults are hypocrites. And even though I didn’t quite know how to phrase it then, I know now. You, Miss Felicity, you’re a child’s nightmare.

I remember when I couldn’t quite divide nine by three and you made me write the equation two hundred times over. I remember when you spilt your coffee on me. You burnt me. And when my mother asked about it, you, Miss Felicity, you lied. You said that I, I, had spilled it over myself. You burnt me, shattered my world. Tore my faith. And when other children around the world dreamt of monsters under their bed, I learnt that true monsters are so entirely human. It was you who taught me that.

You see, a child doesn’t need red marks and numerical consistency. A child doesn’t need to have perfect spelling. I don’t care, Miss Felicity, if you did what you thought was right, because what you did was wrong. Inexcusable. You, you drove daggers into my mind, my heart. You divided me into pieces, like I was a whole number.

Twenty two years and seven months and twelve days, and I haven’t forgotten. More than anything, I’d like you to understand what you’ve done. You taught me that letters should always begin with “Dear-“ and end with “Sincerely” or something or other. Just to drive the point home, though, I’ll end it a little differently. (You’ll also notice that I used more than five paragraphs.)

You see, Miss Felicity, all a child needs is a smile and some freedom. You took that away. It’s a shame that your name does you no justice.

Autumnally yours,
A Crumpled Person

Theme of October: Nightmares