The Nightmare

Name:
Course:
Instructor:
Date:
The Nightmare
Strolling in the park on a Saturday afternoon with my father reminds me of his stories as we sat on the ground watching the water in the river flow. It was a routine every Saturday afternoon while on a walk in the park to listen to thrilling stories that got me scared. Why lie, my father was the best storyteller I have ever met. Apparently, he could tell stories to everyone as long as they got along. While some would call him a liar, I called him imaginative. I was impressed by his creativity and ever-changing episodes of his stories. My father would sit with me for hours late into the night spinning a tale after another that I would recall for my entire life. I look at him today and as even as he grows older; I still remember one of his stories that got my attention; one of the continued adventures of a nightmare that kept recurring in his dreams.
He began with a horrific scare in his face as if he remembered the face of the ugly, toothless monster in his dream. It took him years to get over it as a child until he was 16 years. He lived in a small house near the riverbank with his mother, and the nightmare kept recurring every night of his early years. At age seven, he dreamt frequently of the nightmare that appeared in his dreams. While playing at the living room with his toys, a scary looking monster would peek through the kitchen and catch his eye. He first thought that it was an imagination, but then would keep coming every day. The...