Teens Writing for Teens, issue 6

Thalia

better off with a really good lie
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I once had a dream that was a multi-episode arc of Doctor Who. The Master, as Harold Saxon, was running this pretty creepy-ass amusement park/circus, and there were all these guests and he had the drums pounding in his head, and he was basically starting a murder spree. He'd taken all these child acrobats and basically frozen them as children and they were fighters. He's off taking over the world and I'm getting pretty pissed, 'cause the Doctor hasn't shown up and the Master's murdering people. I try to get close enough to talk to the Master but can't, so instead I run as far from the stage he's on as possible, toward the back of the circus while everyone runs to the exit. All these circus child demon things with sentient and non-sentient balloons that kill things are going wild but I just run straight through, to the back.

I find this little door and enter it, only to be in this sort of woods-area, at the foot of a treehouse. There's some mid-forties woman in there, but she's sick, seems to be dying. She has short, dark brown hair. I climb up the treehouse and try to talk to her as she's dying.

I try to leave, to keep walking, but the world looks a little strange, and as I try to leave the fifteen-foot area I suddenly see a painting. I realize it's a tapestry, and it's all covered in people, and I realize they're screaming. And I'm caught in the tapestry, in pain, screaming, pushing back until I manage to catapult myself out. I'm back at the treehouse, and I climb up to see the woman as she dies.

The woman is me.

I freak out and grab her journal, which she held out to me as she dies, and she suddenly falls off the treehouse and her body disappears. According to the journal, she ran out from the park and found this place, and has been here ever since, for thirty years or so. There are all these notes on nature things that she- I've taken over those years, but she stayed here for the rest of her life, unable to move forward and unwilling to go back.

I pocket the book and decide to honor her sacrifice, spending her life there to warn her younger self about what lies ahead, and return to the amusement park.

There is utter chaos, people dying, painted-white, clownlike children striking people down, and I stand there for a moment, watching the world die, when I hear something behind me, and I turn around.

It's the Doctor. It's Eleven, and he's got no obligation to this Master but he comes anyway, because he's the Doctor and this is the Master and he will always, always be there for him.

He's running, running, and he runs right by me, through the throng, and it takes me a minute before I start running after him.

I'm dodging so many things and so many people, until I get tripped, and I turn around and see one of the clown children, and I'm sure he's going to try and kill me and I'll have to fight until he points at something.

It's a balloon, bent to look like the moon.

It's a simple thing, but the kid is looking at it like it's some sort of miracle and I realize that this is just a child, a child who's lost his life and future and he's fallen in love with a balloon shaped like the moon. Then he looks at me, that same awe in his eye- he's the size of a grown person, they all are, but their minds are children's- and there's something like love in his eyes, like a boy's crush, I can tell he's asking me to stay but I can't, so I say, in the vague hope that this will be enough, "Maybe we'll be together some day."

Then I dash off, toward the front of the park.

The Master is on stage, clutching his head and screaming in pain, and the Doctor is beside him, trying to comfort him, asking the Master to let him help, because the Doctor will always be there to help the Master, and I climb onstage. I run to the machine next to the Master- it's like a piece from a roller coaster, a bunch of seats, but he's sending them not to the roller coaster but to their deaths, and I'm trying to save them and shouting words I can't hear myself think-

-then my mom wakes me up.

I legitimately had that dream, and it is probably the most unbelievable experience of my life. I remember it so, so clearly.
 

Rachel

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Thalia.... I love that dream. That is the most amazing thing ever. I say edit some of the names and write the thing.


ETA: You like Game of Thrones? OOOOOOOOH, epic.
 

Thalia

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I might do that, I've been thinking about it for a while. Thanks! And ohh, another GOT fan! Yes!
 

lisalulu09

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SEE, WHY CAN'T I HAVE DREAMS LIKE THAT.

When I was little, I dreamt I was at my nanny's house and Harry Potter was there with his Invisibility Cloak.
 

Thalia

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I get really, really fantastic dreams. I think it's because my brain is such a... strange place. I have another WIP based on a dream I had at 13... there's a tower made of stars hanging from the sky, a book on how to harness magic from rocks, volcanos, a secret pendant of great magic... The dream was rather Percy Jackson-ish.

So, lots of SNIs from dreams! I feel like Meyer.
 

Rachel

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You are cooler than Meyer!

The most interesting dream I ever had was about devils. Hmmm.
 

Thalia

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Aw, Lisa, your brain isn't stupid.

My subconscious is just CRAZY. Freud would have a field day with me.
 

lisalulu09

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Well, it's telling me SOMETHING.

Possibly something I do not want to know.
 

KarlaErikaCal

YA romance writer in love with love
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To Find Love, which is magical realism bent having to do with dreams, was born from a dream. I don't remember the dream, but all I know was that it was a dream within a dream. That was also my first ever romance idea when my genre at the time was mainly SF/Fantasy.

I have other SNI dreams like Love Square

Man...I just realized I've been writing seriously the last 6.5 years. Started writing novels at the end of 2005 as a high school freshman after Speak inspired me. Only after graduating in 2009 did I realize romance was more my thing. And only within like the last year did my writing start NOT to suck so much.

Definitely jealous of a lot of you younger twifties who are SO TALENTED so young.
 

Thalia

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Oh, I'm sure that by the time I'm your age, I'll look back on everything I'm writing now and then have the urge to vomit.

Lisa, that statement confuses me.
 

KarlaErikaCal

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I was reading something about how things like writing is a skill (I think the word was "skill") that gets much better as you mature, even in older age while ____ is a skill that dwindles with age. I wish I could remember what the blank was. It was something I learned in my psych class in college, I think. Must dig around my notes...
 

amlptj

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Ok back from class!

Now i really dont have much to do... maybe I'll actually try to write...

As for the dreams discussion.... As a child I had night terrors. Nightmares so realistic i could feel pain in them. So graphic i'm pretty sure they are what shaped my screwed up brain now. Funny thing is nightmares don't scare me anymore, in fact they excite me. I think i just got used to the constant nightmares at around 9/10 and embraced them. Probably why i write horror now. Probably why nothing really scares me. Just something i grew up with, my imagination more terrifying them anything i could really face IRL.

Although one thing still creeps me out a little when i'm going to bed. Some nights if i remember i have a horrible fear of opening my eyes and looking at the end of my bed.

When i was younger say around 3-5 i had a recurring nightmare almost every night that would wake me almost as soon as i feel to sleep.

I would be laying in my bed my eyes closed but the alarming sensation that someone was watching me. Then i'd hear soft breaths, barely the sound of a whisper. A shiver would creep down my spine as my nerves tingled with awareness i wasn't alone. I'd be too afraid to open my eyes, but finally i would. At the end of my bed would stand a figure of a person, but it was more like a large smoky shadow. It stood perfectly still not making a sound as piercing red eyes stared right at me. That's when i would hear the breathing again and look up. Standing right at the head of my bed would be another one. As its red eyes stared down at me i'd wake up screaming.

Sometimes even years later that will freak me out if i think about before i go to sleep. Funny how i remember more nightmares in such detail from when i was a child then i do actual memories.
 

Thalia

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Hmm, interesting.

Lisa- so what's it telling you?

ETA: Once Zoom had an SNI about people's reflections trying to kill them. I can no longer be in front of a mirror in the darkness.
 

amlptj

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I wrote a story about that when i was real little!!! Way before i wrote seriously. Say like 7. I used to write down all my nightmares.

It was about a demon that was trapped in the walls of my house, and could only escape if a person looked closely enough in the mirror. If the demon noticed the person looking though the "gateway" it would copy there moments as there refection and then when they were about to look away pounce out and try to kill them.

Yeah again i had F&^%ed up dreams as a kid....

Then when the movie Mirrors came out i was convinced someone had been secretly filming me. heheheh not really, but it was a weird coincidence.
 

lisalulu09

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I HAVE NO IDEA.

My brain is annoying like: LISA IMMA TELL YOU SOMETHING BUT IT WILL BE SO VAGUE/RANDOM YOU HAVE NO IDEA.
 

amlptj

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Sounds like the Freak Sense for my Freaks. heheheheehe.

Lisa dont stress over things. Your brain isnt trying to tell you something epically mystical. Your brain already knows what its saying only you might not want or be ready to hear it.

Everyone has the ability to psychoanalyze themselves if you really sit and think about your real feelings and thoughts.
 

KarlaErikaCal

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Okay found it. It's the type of intelligence, not skill.

Crystallized Intelligence:
- One's accumulated knowledge and verbal skills
- Tends to increase with age

Fluid Intelligence:
-One's ability to reason speedily and abstractly
-Tends to decrease during late adulthood

*one reason why mathematicians/scientists make developments at early years while writers peak later

Hmm this makes me want to take more psych classes lol. Or maybe I can just read psych journals. My school log-in still works to look into databases my school is subscribed to so YAY!
 

lisalulu09

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I think I need to sleep. And hope I don't have any more dreams.

'Night.
 

amlptj

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Makes sense.

So later in my life i'll become a better writer and crappier scientist! HAHAHA.