The Dream Maker

Welcome to Scary Story kids. My name is Edwin, and today's story is about a young girl who learns a little bit about how dreams and nightmares work. Do you know how they're made? Listen? If you dare? Are you ready? Here we go? Momm used to tell me about the legend of the dream Maker whenever I had nightmares. It was about this little old lady with long white hair that lived up in the mountains where clouds were born. Her job was simple to draw our dreams on a piece of paper and turn them into paper airplanes, and then send them to our homes at night. Not all of them would get in, not all would arrive, which is why sometimes we had and other nights we didn't. But if her job was only to do that, then why would she make them so scary sometimes? Well, Mom would say, she makes mistakes when you draw me? Do I always look like me? She was right. If she looked like how I used to draw her, I would be scared to get close to her. But back when I was little, I thought that dream maker legend made sense, But I wish I hadn't thought about it so much. I had a couple of friends at school who would talk about their dreams all the time. Once I got to middle school, I realized that they were probably making them up. But back in first grade, it was something that we talked about during lunch at the cafeteria at school. What did you dream about? Clara and Martina always told me of the greatest things you could imagine, that they were scientists working at the International Space Station, or that they had a submarine that would take them to any beach that they wanted. One time, Clara and Martina both said that they were in the same dream. And I'm embarrassed to say it now, but I believe them. But back then and now, I guess I liked always sticking with the truth. So I would tell them that I had not had a dream in many nights. They would roll their eyes and get back to eating their carrot sticks and peanut butter. Days passed by, and the question was the same, what did you dream about? It was tempting to make something up, but I didn't. I would shake my head and say that I didn't dream anything. On my way home from school one day, I told Mom about the question and that I hadn't had a dream in a while, to which she said that it was okay that you don't always dream, and that it might that I'm actually resting and not tiring myself out in them. Do you really want to dream that you're working or that you have ten ponies to take care of? I guess she had a point. Mom used to always complain about work, But I also did think that it was better to not dream anything than risk having another one of those nightmares. In the last one, I was being followed by a large dog through the dark woods. I woke up just before it caught up to me. But still I wanted a dream. I really did that night. After Mom closed the door to my room and I saw the light from the hallway turn off, I stepped out of bed and walked to my window. The flickering light from the street lamp across the street was making a buzzing noise. Moths and other insects were circling around it. But then I got it. I opened up the window about halfway up. I could feel the wind coming through. That should be enough space for the paper airplane with my dream to arrive. Excited, I climbed into bed and made a cave out of my blanket. The room was colder, than I thought it would be, but the blanket was warm enough. I counted down from one hundred and lost track of the numbers at some point. Soon I was fast asleep. I woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of the creaking floor by my bed. I grabbed onto the blanket as tightly as I could, but something was pulling on them. This was my dream, a nightmare. The little old lady had made a mistake again. Harder and harder I held on, and harder and harder it pulled. But then I froze when I heard a raspy voice, Hello, little girl. I tried to hold my breath to not make so much noise, but I couldn't. It was getting hot inside the blanket, and I was having trouble getting air. Hello, little girl, the boy said. I couldn't hold my breath any longer, so I pulled down the blanket just a little bit, and I felt the cold there in the room. It was morning now, and the room was freezing cold and still dark. I looked toward the window, and right underneath it it was a little old lady. Her sinister smile was glowing. I had opened up the window a little too much. I hadn't just let the paper airplane with my dream inside, but the dream maker, her whole body, had gotten in. I screamed, and I heard the footsteps of Mom coming to my room. She sighed before opening my door, but when she did, she gasped loudly. She looked right at the woman at the wall by the window, and without taking her eyes off of her, Mom grabbed my arm and carried me out of the room, closing the door behind us. We ran toward the front door, got in the car, and waited. The police came a few minutes after that. I don't think that was the dream maker. Scary Story Kids is written by me Edwin Kovarujas. Information for parents is over on our website Scary story Kids dot com and available at free over on scaryplus dot com. If you know of someone who also likes scary stories, share this story with them. Thank you very much for listening. Keep it scary everyone, See you soon.