3:27 A.M.
by Leighton McCrimmon, age 13, Oxford Middle School
Oct 30, 2012 | 672 views |  0 comments | 6 6 recommendations | email to a friend | print
I had awoken at 3:27 a.m. in my bedroom, where it was like a dark abyss. I couldn’t see a single thing. I checked my phone to see what time it was. When I saw, I knew it was about to happen again.

For the past five nights, I would wake up at exactly 3:27 a.m. It was the time I would go into a dark world of pain and fear. I called it, “The Beast’s Playground.” It would come out into our world at 3:27, to play only with me. I hated this beast. Whatever it was, it sure wasn’t a good thing. It obviously hated me, due to what it would do. It was 3:27 a.m., and the beast had just arrived.

I reached for my phone to shine the most light I could out into the dark world of my room. But something grabbed my hand and held it down. I tried to sit up, but it shoved me down. I couldn’t move a muscle. I couldn’t even yell. I tried to breathe, but it clenched to my throat. My heart began to beat really fast. It seemed like it would burst out of my chest, but thankfully it didn’t. I thought this was it, I thought I would end here. But to “him,” it had just begun.

It was 3:27 a.m.; the beast came out to dance and play. It held me by the throat and lifted me off the bed. It took me down the hall and out the door. It carried me through the woods, where the world got darker and darker until I was blinded by the night. How was I still breathing? Then it let me go. I fell on the dirt ground; nothing was making a sound.

It seemed to be 3:27 a.m. for hours, but in the world of the beast, 3:27 a.m. has just begun.

I woke up back in my house. It was time for school. My brother woke me up, possibly saving my life. I hoped 3:27 a.m.. was just a nightmare. But my brother said my neck was red and I looked pale and frightened. It wasn’t a dream; it was reality.

I tried to ignore him, and went off to take my shower. I felt like the beast was there waiting for me again, for when I go to bed. I turned off the water, and dried off. I stepped out and put on my clothes, but I felt a gasp of air in my ear that whispered my name. I felt scared once more. I went to my room. Behind me, my brother said, “You look scared. Don’t be sad. Come on, let’s have more fun. It’s not going to end. For 3:27 a.m. has just begun.”

Everything turned dark again. I was still stuck in the world of the beast, where 3:27 a.m. would never end.
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3:27 A.M. by Leighton McCrimmon, age 13, Oxford Middle School

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