I fell asleep last night and dreamed about the spooky meadow. Everything was the same as before except now I had Tinkerbell in my arms--which makes sense cuz that's where she was when I fell asleep.
Tink got startled when the first gargling howl came from over the ridge. She squirmed and struggled, so I had to hold her tight and try to calm her down.
And guess who showed up with us right then. No, not Dream Boy--I only wish!--it was Miss Freckles, the giant girl who hates my guts, and she was cackling with glee. "What dark and evil part of your mind is this?" she asked.
"I thought you were the dark and evil part of my mind," I shot back. "I wish I could have traded those GlomCorp clothes for you instead of for Dream Boy!"
"That really hurts, Melly." She made a momentary effort to look sad but failed miserably. I think it had something to do with the gleam in her eyes as she looked out at the swirling red smoke rising from the other side of the ridge. She clasped her hands together when the beast let out another tortured shriek. "Why, Melly! I do believe you've made yourself a monster!"
"Why is it my monster?" I asked, stroking Tink to calm her down again. "Maybe it's your monster."
"It's your mind, so it's your monster. That's the way it works."
"But how do I know this isn't your mind?"
"Oh, Melly." Miss Freckles laughed. "Do you really think I'd invite you into my mind? The creature on the other side of that ridge is a manifestation of your fears, your guilt, and your anxieties. It's your very own monster, created by you!"
The shriek came again, closer than ever, and the red smoke swirled from something large passing through it. Miss Freckles leaned forward eagerly and waited, while I swallowed hard and tried to turn away--but I couldn't. It was like my eyes were glued to the spot!!!
Slowly, a creature emerged from the smoke. It had six legs, two heads, and patches of flesh that clung loosely to its visible bones.
Miss Freckles recoiled with her entire body. "This is your monster? This is the skeleton in your closet?"
My mouth was so dry, I couldn't even answer.
"What have you done, Melly?" Miss Freckles demanded.
"N-n-nothing," I said, unconvincingly.
Miss Freckles launched herself at me, swinging punches that could have flattened a heavyweight boxer--pretty easily too, since she's my size or close to it. I fell back and raised my arms to protect myself. I know it was only a dream but it sure felt real as she connected her fists with my face, arms, and shoulders.
"What have you done, Melly?" she kept asking. "What have you done? What have you done? What have you done?"
I woke to find Tink mooing in my ear. I stroked her neck and told her it was all just a nightmare, and I'm sure it was--but then, why are my hands still shaking as I type this, and why are there bruises coming up on my arms as if I got hit for real?
Illustrator Challenge
Artists can create illustrations of me or the events in my life, as long as they are appropriate for my young readers. Any previous post on this blog can be illustrated. If I like an image that goes well with a post on the blog, I may add a small thumbnail version along with credit to the artist and a link to the full-sized image. Images of me posted elsewhere should link back to the "Giant Girl Rampages" blog.
If you want to draw a picture of me, here's what you need to know:
I'm 15 years old and almost (but not quite) 18 feet tall. Mrs. Appleton says I'm very pretty and well proportioned, which I guess is a complement. I'm not super thin or anything but I think I'm in pretty good shape.
I have dirty blonde hair that's kind of wild because I trim it with Pa's old hedge trimmers. My eyes are green as the ocean, as Ma always said, but I wouldn't know because I've never seen an ocean. My skin is tanned from being out in the sun a lot but not too dark and (usually) not burned.
I wear a blouse and skirt-shorts that my mother quilted for me three years ago. They look like a big patchwork cuz she used many squares of fabric and cowhide. I've grown since then, so the skirt-shorts no longer come down to my knees, my blouse is way tight, and there's a bit of skin showing in between. I don't have any shoes (and that makes me sad to think about so I usually don't).
If you do draw my picture, send the link in a comment so I can post it to my blog. Thanks!!!
If you want to draw a picture of me, here's what you need to know:
I'm 15 years old and almost (but not quite) 18 feet tall. Mrs. Appleton says I'm very pretty and well proportioned, which I guess is a complement. I'm not super thin or anything but I think I'm in pretty good shape.
I have dirty blonde hair that's kind of wild because I trim it with Pa's old hedge trimmers. My eyes are green as the ocean, as Ma always said, but I wouldn't know because I've never seen an ocean. My skin is tanned from being out in the sun a lot but not too dark and (usually) not burned.
I wear a blouse and skirt-shorts that my mother quilted for me three years ago. They look like a big patchwork cuz she used many squares of fabric and cowhide. I've grown since then, so the skirt-shorts no longer come down to my knees, my blouse is way tight, and there's a bit of skin showing in between. I don't have any shoes (and that makes me sad to think about so I usually don't).
If you do draw my picture, send the link in a comment so I can post it to my blog. Thanks!!!
Posts
Although there's not much we can do, your friends are still here, Melly. Everyone has their own monster.
ReplyDeleteI told ya, sometimes you can feel 'em touching you, like the monster in my dream. I never did see what it looked like.
ReplyDeleteI hope everyone else is handling their monsters better than I'm handling mine!!!
ReplyDelete