'The Graveyard Symphony'�, By Derrick Kuebler

From a dark black haze to a fuzzy focus, my eyes adjusted to the dim light of the cemetery that I was standing in. It seems that I was roaming around in an abyss of darkness for my entire life, and I can't figure out what I'm doing here. In front of me is a statue of an angel down on her knees holding what appears to be a rose the same color of the statue: cement gray. I look down at the headstone that sits patiently at the foot of the statue.
'Everything Here Dies Alone'�, it reads in old English text. Then under that it reads,
'In Loving Memory of Alexandra'�, Somehow I know that I know her, at the same time I also know that this is but a dream. I kneel down to pay my respect in hope of figuring out how I knew her. Than as I'm kneeling down on her grave I spot the smallest of plants growing from her grave. Then I think even through death life tends to keep on living.
I break out of my serene state of mind and look back down at the plant that I noticed earlier growing. Now the plant was more then just a small green leaf attached to a small twisting and curving vine. Now it was more like Virginia creep, growing and consuming me as is I where an old seventeenth century castle. Thorns spiked out of the vine and separated into multiple vines and their grip grew stronger and stronger yet. The thorns easily jabbed tearing into my skin making it numb and itchy.
There was a sort of poison that lingered on the ends of the razor sharp thorns that made my entire body temporarily paralyzed. I try to open my mouth to scream but even mouth doesn't twitch the slightest bit. Inside my right arm I can feel a thorn stab through the skin and it's followed by the cringing feeling of something like barb wire cutting and tearing through the skin and inside flesh only to escape my warm body through the other side.
My blood crawls out of the fresh wound and trickles down my arm and then drip at my bent elbow, like rats running out of an old burning building. The quickly dripping blood didn't even tickle as running blood usually does when it moves over the standing hairs on your arms. There where more then one vine that stabbed through my body, countless other ones made there way through my legs and stomach. Like an evil psychological monster the vines clutched me from the inside out, ripping my sanity straight from the soul of me.
One of the vines that tears its' way inside of my back moves throughout the inside of my torso. I can feel it trying to make its way to one of my vital organs, and I can't tell if it's going for my liver, or my lung, or maybe even to wrap its self around my spinal cord locking me in its paralyzing nonhuman grip. I know it may sound like I'm seriously messed up in my head but I could feel this thing thinking in an insane murder type of way. It wanted me dead and now it was finally getting from me what it wanted to get for the past millennium.
The vine that's fishing around inside my body finally reaches just below my heart, and before it strikes it pulls back barely far enough to give it a lunging effect. Right as it penetrates I wake up to my alarm clock screaming in my ears. I look up at it and realize that I've been sleeping for an hour past the time I was supposed to be woken up at. In the back of my mind I can see the words 'What a Beautiful Nightmare'�'�


'�. The End'�

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