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Writing

A Dream
It was time for bed, again, day after day, week after week. I tried to focus on my sleep, but
the test that was happening tomorrow kept on flooding my brain. I couldn’t stop thinking
about it. ‘What if I don’t know a question? What happens if I don’t finish on time? How well
would I do?’ Questions wouldn’t stop entering my brain. Time passed as I heard the clock
go, ‘Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.’ Minutes later, I found myself lying on my bed, with nothing to do.
“I just need to fall asleep, it’s not hard.” I said to myself. “Just fall asleep, Jamal.”
“Cooomme … on… y …ou can d…o th…is.” I muttered as I slowly but surely fell asleep.
“Come on Jamal, come join us, it’s the newly built playground!” Screamed one of my
friends.
“I must not fail my test.” I thought to myself.
“Come on, just come with me, we can have so much fun!” He screamed him again.
But I never replied, maybe my thoughts in real life were affecting my dreams. What was
happening? I had never previously had I dream before that I remember happening. I
thought they were good, or were they?
Suddenly, I feel a small touch on the side of my body, a feel the sense to wake up, I see a
dark figure, staring into my soul. I go and check the time and see that it is 3 AM. I suddenly
get mad. “WHO WOKE ME UP THIS EARLY?” I yelped as I started punching the wall. “Wait,
it’s labour day?”

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