She had a gift of life. She knew that. She could take a blob of clay and mold it into wonderful little pieces that breathed life.
But nothing in this world comes for free. She also knew that. She paid for her gifts dearly in her dreams.
Some nights unbeknownst, her hands fiddled with the clay and in the morning there would be hideous faces mocking at her. She could never remember how she made them. She should have. But her hands were always clean.
She never let anyone see them. Not even her family.
But when the nightmares became more gory and she started having black outs, she decided its time to get therapy.
And when the newspaper described scenes from her dreams and they found one of her hidious pieces near the mutilated bodies, she didnt know what to think….
P.S: I think this is the first installment of what I think could be my next story 🙂 Hopefully I will finish it! 😀 😀 ( havent named it yet coz I dunno how it will go from here 🙂 )