"Don't dream and drive!" A deep voice said as the burnt face of the man who said it on the television screen grinned wickedly.

"Turn the damn T.V. down for heaven's sakes!" My stepdad's voice yelled from up the stairs, "Even the devil can hear your' stupid nightmare movies!"

I rolled my eyes. Why did my mom have to marry that alcoholic dumb ass that had no taste in movies, or books for that matter? He hated the horror movies I watched which sucked super badly because I loved them with all my heart. One of the main reasons I loved them so much was I was born in raised in the same town and street all of the Nightmare on Elm Street movies took place, Springwood and Elm Street. Also, because of the fact that dying in your dreams meant dying in real life was fascinating for me and that people couldn't escape from Freddy Krueger, unlike other slashers.

I paused the movie I was watching and turned off the T.V. He was going to get one hell of a scare if he turned it back on later that night. I walked up the dark, carpeted stairs and turned into my moonlit bedroom.

Posters of Freddy Krueger and almost all of the Nightmare on Elm Street movie posters covered every square inch of my bedroom walls, including my ceiling. The only space that wasn't hidden was my full length mirror that hung on my door. My nightstand was cluttered with sketches that I made of him and also of the Elm Street house. Somewhere underneath my drawings was a clock whose numbers glowed red and I could see the faint glimmer of it below the mountain of my Freddy portrayals.

I walked over to my bed and collapsed dramatically onto its red and green striped comforter face first. It still smelled like laundry detergent from the last time my mom had washed it. I got back up and climbed under the blankets correctly, staring at the poster of Freddy sitting on a throne of human skulls that was tacked right above the bed on the ceiling the whole time.

I stared back at his empty blue eyes that never blinked and wondered how he got to be so evil, I guess it was just because of his childhood. But if it was, did that mean I was going to end up like him? The reason my father wasn't around was because he had been sent to jail for molesting me. It wasn't the exact same thing that Freddy had gone through, but it was close. Molestation, abuse, it's all the same.

I tried to remember when and what exactly my father had done to me, I never could remember. My psychologist suggested that I suppressed the memories. She put me through a special kind of therapy to try and get them back because I wanted to remember. Chunks of my life were missing because of it, and I wanted them back! But, the treatments never worked, and I never got my memories back.

I stared blankly at the poster and for a moment, I thought I saw it move! I could have sworn his hand twitched! But I knew it was just my eyes playing tricks on me in the dark. I rolled over on my side so I faced yet another poster tacked to the wall.

Just then I realized how tired I really was. I tried to fight it off for a couple of minutes, forcing but finally I gave in and closed my eyes, letting myself be swept away by the currents of my dreams.

I sat up breathing hard and looking every which way. The last thing I remembered was falling asleep in my bedroom, but now I was somewhere else. I stood up and the road was freezing underneath my bare feet and it was almost completely dark, except for the pale yellow light being spread from a lamppost that lit up the road I was standing in the middle of. I recognized it right away; it was Elm Street, the one from the movies!

The house I was standing in front of was thee Elm Street house. It looked exactly the same as it did in the movies, and was as equally creepy. The door was still white and the windows were boarded up. It was still the same shade of light blue and, like in the movies, seemed to beckon me to come inside.

There was something about it that just seemed so interesting and lonely, or it may have just been my curiosity. I walked up the cement path that led to its door as slowly as I could because I knew exactly what was waiting for me inside.

I had dreams like this many times before and all of them ended with me waking up screaming and my mother telling me to lay off the horror movies or I was going to end up dying of fright one day, but I never could tell that they were dreams. & in them, I always had to face things that many people were terrified of, like hell, drowning, spiders, cockroaches, and stuff like that, but never the thing I feared the most, which I actually wasn't sure of. They all had one thing in common, they were all set up like a dream Freddy would send, but I never saw him.

I actually had never seen him in any of my dreams before, which my friends thought was really odd. My best friend Samantha said, and I quote, "If you don't dream about him soon, you're going to end up going crazy and going on a fuckin' massacre! Especially since you know every detail about his life!"

I put my hand on the rusty doorknob and twisted it slowly, letting its cold, rough metal slide underneath my palms. The creaked loudly as it swung open revealing the room inside. The orange floral wallpaper was shredded by what was obviously Freddy's knifed glove. The couch, walls, and carpet were stained. The room was lit by a faint light spread by a broken chandelier. There was a staircase in the corner that I couldn't see all the way up.

I walked inside expecting something to pop up and scare me half to death. A gush of wind rushed past me and I heard the door slam. It didn't take me by surprise at all. I strolled over to the foot of the stairs and stared at the darkness it led up to. It looked very intimidating, but might as well get it over with.

I climbed the stairs and was consumed by the blackness. There seemed to be nothing else but shadows, but I kept going up the steps just the same. I couldn't see anything and I kept my hands a couple inches in front of me so I wouldn't run into anything.

Then, I felt something. I ran my hand along it, it was made of wood. I felt down and to the right, where I thought a doorknob would be. Something cold and metal touched my fingers and I gripped it in my hand. I tried to prepare myself for what was inside, but I wasn't really sure what was.

I turned it and pushed the door open and stared at the room before me wide eyed. There, sitting on a throne made of human skulls, was the one and only Freddy Krueger. His hat was dipped just so that I couldn't see his eyes, but I could see the rest of his mangled, burnt face. His hands were placed on the bones that served as the armrests for the skull-throne. On the right one was his artfully crafted, razor clawed, glove that gleamed in the grey light that filled the room. His sweater was how it always was, covered with something like dirt or ash, fading its red and green stripes.

His burnt lips curled into a mischievous snarl and he began to speak in his dark, malicious, voice, "I wanted to thank you."

"For what?" I asked without really thinking it over. For seeing him for the first time, I wasn't very scared or really surprised. I guess I was just so used to seeing him on T.V. that when I actually saw him, it didn't startle me at all.

He laughed his cold laugh and then answered looking up at me for the first time, "For setting me free."

I couldn't look away from his blue gaze. His eyes were so empty, but yet seemed like they were searching for something. He got up and began walking across the cement floor towards me, but I didn't really notice. I was locked in his stare, I couldn't move.

"My dear, I've been waiting for this for a very long time." He was standing right in front of me now, and I had to look up at him.

He brang his glove up and rested it on my shoulder. I could feel the coldness of its blades through my shirt as I just kept on staring. Now I couldn't move because I was absolutely terrified. He was here, and he was going to hurt me.

Then it hit me, he wasn't real, but I could feel him, I could touch him. But this was just a dream, wasn't it?

I gazed deeper into his eyes they were so vast and blue, I seemed to get lost in them. I couldn't see anything else, I couldn't think about anything else, but then came the pain. The agonizing pain! It shot up my arm and I jerked it away, finally diverting myself from his gaze and staring down at where the pain was coming from.

Blood seeped out from a gaping cut in my arm, and it hurt! Was this a dream? I heard footsteps and I looked up and realized that Freddy was gone!

"This is only the beginning, make my stronger Serena. Power, fear it's all the same," His deep voice snarled into my ear. I froze again. Then I felt something wet and rough touch my cheek, his tongue! I had to keep myself from screaming in disgust and terror as he slid it upwards towards my ear.

I squeezed my eyes shut and I couldn't help but my mouth opened in a silent wail. I didn't dare to even breathe. Then I let out a squeak of dread and I felt gravity shift. I couldn't hold it in anymore!

I screamed as loud as I could, and opened my eyes. What I saw made me scream even more. There was Freddy, sitting on the throne of human skulls again. But in the corner in tiny yellow writing said, A Nightmare on Elm Street 5: The Dream Child.

I stopped screaming and sat up. Something cold was on my cheek. I reached up and wiped it off, it was wet! Then I became aware of the pain in my arm again. I looked down at my arm and saw the some cut that had been in my dream!