The Man in the Cloak
It was a typical summer night in Philadelphia. I had decided to sleep on the living room floor because it was cooler (or so I had thought). Annoyed by the heat and the difficult decision whether to keep the blanket on or off, I dozed off. I then dreamt I was in an old town dated back in the 19th century.
It was cold and had rained yet the stars in the midnight sky sparkled the wet stone pavement. I was walking down a dark alley looking around for who knows what. I heard someone was walking behind me slowly. Thinking it was just someone who wanted to get by me, without looking, I moved to the side. After a couple of seconds waiting for that person to walk by me, I looked back. No one was there. Hesitantly, I slowly looked forward and there I saw The Man in the Cloak. I could not see his face. Not even the glistening water on the ground reflected his face.
All he wore was a black gentleman's hat, a cloak (not a cape. A CLOAK), and gloves. In his left hand was a knife that was already stained in blood. Drip.. drip.. Scared, I turned and ran off. I couldn't scream or let out a voice. My heart raced as I picked up speed. I looked back and there he was. The Man in the Cloak ran towards me with such speed. I tried to run faster but the faster I ran, the faster he came close to me. The man grabbed my arm, raised the knife, and proceeded to stab my heart.
In my waking life, I had felt a sharp pain in my chest. I continued to dream but I was able to stay "awake". Yet.. I couldn't get up.
As I was dreaming, I screamed as strange liquids gush out of my chest. It was not blood but it was clear. He pulls out the knife and as he was about to stab me again, I pushed him and ran off with my hand on my wounded chest. I still had enough energy to run even though I was soon to pass out. Then, a white flash woke me up completely.
The pain was still there but it was mild. I looked around my living room and had realized it was morning. As I sighed in relief, I went to the bathroom to take a cold shower. I took off my clothes and looked down at my chest. A birthmark shaped like a knife wound was imprinted across my chest. Thinking it was just chocolate that I had ate before sleeping fell on me, I tried scratching it off but it wouldn't scrape off.
Some say birthmarks represent how you were killed in your past life.
Credited to ItzNormaXD
Originally uploaded on August 20, 2012
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