MY MOVIES

"This is just a fiction, it's a thought I had to pen down, all about movies, dreams and stuffs, let's find out if it's funny, right? *Chapter 1* My name is Scott, and I'm 12 years old. I'm one of the smartest kids in my class, but my mom says I spend too much time watching TV instead of studying. I'm not sure if I'm a movie person, but I love films so much that I've had dreams based on them. I have a best friend named Gerald, he's my partner in crime when it comes to movies. Gerald is 13, with square head, and always knows about the coolest films. He told me about Mad Max, "It's a great movie, and you're going to love it," he said. I was convinced, so I decided to give it a try. Friday, 11:43 PM. Mom told me to get to bed, but I was still watching my favorite movie, Mad Max. It was a wild ride, but it left me shaken. As I drifted off to sleep, I had a nightmare that still haunts me. In my dream, a guy in black approached me, covered in blood, with a g*n in one hand and a knife in the other. He looked furious, like I'd stolen his wife. I was terrified. "My time has come," I thought. "Will I survive the bullets? Can I fight back?" A thousand thoughts raced through my mind. Just as the man was about to reach me, a familiar voice echoed in my head: "Son, son, wake up! It's time for breakfast." My mom's voice. I thought, "At least I'm not dead yet." As I slowly came to, the man in black loomed closer, his face twisted in rage. Then, suddenly, I was awake. My mom stood over me, a mixture of concern and amusement on her face, mop in hand. "Scott, you look like you've seen a ghost," she said, and walked away. I jumped out of bed and rushed to the mirror. My reflection revealed a terrified expression, with sweat dripping down my face. I looked like I'd just survived a horror movie. *9:21 AM* Mom sat beside me, and I recounted my dream. "A guy in black came after me with a g*n and blood all over him," I said, still shaken. Mom listened quietly, her expression unreadable. "Mom?" I called out, breaking the silence. She snapped back to reality, a gentle smile on her face. "It was just a dream, sweetheart," she said, giving me a forehead kiss. I rolled my eyes. "Eww, Mom, not again." As she comforted me, I wondered: was it just a dream, or was something more going on? And what would happen next? I couldn't help but think about Gerald and his recommendation. "Gerald, I'm going to kill you when I'm out of this," I thought to myself, still trying to shake off the fear. Chapter 2: My Birthday Bash I woke up to the sound of my mom calling out, "Happy birthday, sweetheart!" I jumped out of bed, eager to start the celebrations. I thought I'd left the haunting memories of Mad Max behind, but now I was about to face new terrors. Gerald, my partner in cinematic crime, was already at my doorstep, grinning like a possessed raccoon. "Dude, today's the day!" he exclaimed, brandishing a cake with candles that looked like tiny skulls. As we devoured the cake, my dad handed me a gift: Thirteen Ghosts on DVD. I raised an eyebrow, wondering if he was trying to traumatize me for life. Gerald, however, was ecstatic. "Yes! We're going to summon some spirits... of terror!" he cackled. I hesitated, still haunted by the Mad Max nightmares. But Gerald's enthusiasm was contagious, and I didn't want to be a party pooper. "Okay, fine," I agreed, trying to sound braver than I felt. My dad chuckled and patted me on the back. "Don't worry, Scott. If Mad Max comes to get you, just remember: 'V8, V8, V8'!" I rolled my eyes. "Dad, that's not funny." But he just winked and said, "I'm just trying to prepare you for the apocalypse, kiddo." The party was in full swing, with friends and family laughing and chatting. But as the evening drew to a close, the last visitors said their goodbyes, and the house grew quiet. "Thanks for coming," my mom chimed, waving goodbye to the last guest. The door closed, and Gerald and I were left alone. As night fell, we barricaded ourselves in my room, ready to face the ghosts on screen. The TV flickered to life, casting eerie shadows on the walls. Gerald cackled maniacally, while I whispered, "What have we gotten ourselves into?" The movie started, and the ghosts began to haunt the screen. I felt a chill run down my spine. Suddenly, Gerald let out a blood-curdling scream, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. "Dude, it's just the movie!" I hissed, laughing nervously. As the credits rolled, I couldn't shake off the feeling that we'd unleashed some real spirits. And Gerald just grinned, his eyes gleaming with mischief. Gerald and I exchanged a thrilled glance. "That was insane!' he whispered, still grinning. I nodded in agreement, my heart still racing from the intense scenes. We high-fived, and I felt a rush of excitement. "Dude, that ghost almost came out of the TV!" Gerald chuckled, and we both laughed, still hyped from the movie. The room seemed to vibrate with our energy, but as the adrenaline wore off, I felt a creeping sense of unease. The shadows on the walls seemed to twist and writhe, like living things. I glanced around, but everything seemed normal. Gerald yawned, stretching his arms. "I'm gonna crash, man. Best night ever." I nodded, feeling a yawn creeping up on me too. As we settled in for the night, the silence seemed to grow thicker, heavier. I couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching us from the shadows. And then, just as I was drifting off to sleep, I heard it. A faint creaking sound, like the door slowly opening. I froze, my heart pounding in my chest. "Gerald?" I whispered, but he didn't respond. I nudged him, and he stirred, groggy. "What was that?" I asked, my voice barely audible. Gerald listened, his eyes narrowing. "I didn't hear anything," he whispered back. But I knew I had. And I knew something was wrong. "Best. Birthday. Ever," he whispered, as the lights flickered ominously. Chapter 3: Gerald's Nightmare "Ahhhh, help!" Gerald screamed, jolting me awake. I knew the movie had caught up with him – a nightmare. This time, it wasn't me; it was Gerald's turn. I found him sitting at the foot of the bed, staring at the wall with a frozen gaze, as if mesmerized by a ghost only he could see. "Oh, Mary, mother of Jesus," I whispered, trying to calm him down. His eyes were wide with terror, his face pale. He looked like he'd seen the very spirits we'd watched on screen. I knew he'd had his own nightmare. Gerald's lips moved, but no words came out. I could read his lips, though – he was trying to say "Thirteen Ghosts." His eyes were unblinking, his soul seemed to have left his body. I wondered what could snap him out of it. "Are you gonna say something, man?" I asked, trying to break the silence. Our eyes met, and my heart skipped a beat. He kept staring at me, his gaze intense. Gerald suddenly stood up and walked away without a word. I heard footsteps approaching my doorstep – Mom. "Scott?" she called out. "Come in, Mum," I replied. She entered, concern etched on her face. "What's up with Gerald? He's looking weird." "I don't know, Mum. Maybe some scary dreams," I said, trying to downplay it. "Were you two up all night watching horror movies?" she asked, her tone laced with disappointment. I nodded, and she walked away, muttering, "Next time, it's a bedtime stories about fluffy kittens." As she left, I let out a sigh of relief – Dad would've been worse. Now, I wondered how Gerald was doing. Was he okay? What was haunting him? And why did I hear whispers of "Thirteen Ghosts" coming from his mouth...? .... I heard my parents ' muffled voices from their room down the hall. They were discussing me, I was sure of it. "Seriously, does it always have to be about me?" I muttered, throwing my hands up in exasperation. "Love, I'm worried about Scott watching all these horror movies," Mom said, concern etched on her face. Dad replied, "Ah, come on, dear. Let the boy live a little. Horror movies are good for the soul." Mom raised an eyebrow. " You think it's a good idea for a 13- year-old to be watching Thirteen Ghost? Dad chuckled. "Well, it's either horror movies or video games. At least with horror movies, he's learning about suspense and plot twists." Mom signed. "You're not helping dear." Dad grinned. "Hey, I'm just saying, Scott's a tough kid. He can handle it. Besides, it's not like we're raising a fragile flower here." "Alright, alright" Mom replied as they went silent...........