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Almost everyone, at least once in their lives, has experienced the cold, paralyzing terror known as a nightmare. What we don’t know, however, is what causes the brain to function so? Call me crazy, yes, you aren't the first! But these white padded walls are helping me! Not once since my elaborate escape from the jaws of death have I felt the creeping fear of the inky, black horse that rides upon my dreams!

The common time for rest is at night, which seems to unfortunately be the polar opposite for demons and spirits alike. Now, keep that in mind, as I talk about horses and things of their kind! A Mare, a full grown female horse, can haunt your dreams and cloud them with such force. Next time you try to fall asleep, if I may ask, that you try your best to do this simple task. Watch intently as the room darkens, and the neigh of a mare you must hearken! The shadows will warp, twist and turn, and if you’re not careful, touch it and you will burn.

Through the forest of black you’ll see a horse, running around your head in a circular course! If strong willed you are without, you’ll faint and die with very little doubt. How this happens is unknown, but alas I have survived to tell a tale full of sorrow! Now, no doubt you understand what I meant? With the night comes a mare, a nightmare so intent! It seems that everyone has their own experience, now it’s time to explain and get quite serious.

Now you see, before I speak, let me remind you of these walls I’m in, this was merely my choice! All I needed was a reason to get in, but one life was easy to spare? He did not mean much, useless as can be, so I murdered him with every ounce of glee! This, as proven, has led me here, safe from the demon of Nightmares. Now, here we go…

12/10/1817 - A Peculiar Sight

My name is Arthur C. Harrison, and these journal entries are to track my progress of a mindset.

Everyday, the plan is to write a page given my whereabouts, events, or anything else I feel is necessary to record. Having constant thoughts of brutally murdering loved ones isn’t easy to recover from, nor is drinking.

Today was a bit odd if you will, on my walk to work I noticed the abandoned horse farm seemed to be so alive and well, despite the broken windows, stones, and burnt wood. You see, not long after it opened, some mysterious fire broke out. My, what a horrifying event! The enraged and fearful cries of the horses could be heard for miles at end! But today, 2 months exactly from the fire, it was alive once again. New lights seemed to be strung up, with voices and laughs practically spilling out from the fences! That was odd, but nothing compared to the black horse roaming aimlessly around the racetrack. It seemed to be so pure black that not even the brightest rays of light shone on its body, nor shading or tones. It was like looking at a shadow, walking on its own. I was awfully late, so I paid no thought to stop and stare, I had business and I couldn't stay there.

12/11/1817 - Dread Starts to Form

That horse, I've seen it again. This time it was but a dream! I knew it was a dream, from the cloud of the room. I arose in my sleep to my bedroom, and I looked out the window next to my bed to see empty darkness. It was as though the house had been pulled out of existence, falling into the cold, black, shadow. I looked in front of my bed to see a horse, double my height of 5'6, standing in the far corner of my room. Despite my being in a dream, staring into those deep, black, eyes gave me an awful sense of dread. It felt as though I was looking at my death, embodied in the shadowy form of a mare! Well, as I write this my memory grows old, so I think I’ll stop for now until I see it again.

12/14/1817 - The Opposite of a Decision

As you see from the dates of my entries, I took a bit of a hiatus. For the last 4 days, exactly after that dream, I’ve found out I have an awful headache! Every time I hear but the slightest noise, it feels as though my head is being drilled open with a knife! And every moment my eyelids touch, I see the head of the mare I’ve been seeing. The last days, in which my writing wasn’t present, was the same.

Every night, the horse came closer. Each dream, that dreadful mare came one hoof near to my bed, imposing and quite ominous. I’ve come to the conclusion that alcohol helps with headaches, and stops the dreams. It’s not what I want to do, but I have no choice. You can say, it’s the opposite of a decision…

12/15/1817 - Focus Devoid

Through the delirious state of my now fractured mind, two things come to:

  1. I, no matter the struggle, need to keep writing as much as possible. I'm no use to this world if I can't document this for further inspection.
  2. I started these entries to cope with the hard journey of becoming a generally better person. I'm slowly transforming into the very embodiment of everything I hate!

My bottle of Amontillado has emptied; I worry that the temptation will be too much for me to handle. I've asked someone to lock the doors from the outside, so I can't buy any more alcohol. This, as expected, has taken a toll on my mental health. Loneliness, and the fear of running low on food keep me up at night. It has taken me several hours to steady my hands as I slowly but deliberately press each key on this damned typewriter, farewell for now.


Where...Where could it be

I haven't seen it the dreams keep reoccurring even through my intoxication yet I no longer see the horse it just got closer and closer and now it's gone I don't even know how I think it has made it into the real world once again through the horror of my dreams I see everyday when I walk past the old horse farm to go to work I've lost my job but I still beg beg everyday and

So you see, I had ceased my entries at the thought of immolation! A thought struck me like a bolt of lightning, more powerful than ever! What happens to reflection when the very mirror that holds it is shattered! THE REFLECTION BREAKS ASWELL! If I could re-create such scenario in my dreams, the mare would be trapped in the shards of a broken dream, from a broken man no less! All I had to do was overdose in my drugs, enough to kill me in an hour's time. I stopped my routine of alcohol and drugs for a week, enough to regain the dreams. This time, it was on my bed, pressing all her weight onto my legs which had broken in the dream. So that night, I had overdosed and like clockwork, the mare returned. This, I knew, was the very end for me! Just as the horse began to warp into something much more sinister, everything went white. My last words, "Good luck can't harm anyone."

Questions, correct? I do too. It seems a mere mortal cannot simply kill a demon. I had survived, but only because it had let me. It is free now, so watch out.

And never. Ever. Go back to sleep.

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