I had a nightmare when I was six or seven. In hindsight it wasn’t particularly scary, but six year old me awoke in tears.
I was walking through pitch black - not even night - just blackness that negates every kind of light imaginable. At least I was not alone. With me, walking alongside me on either side were the Tin Man, The Scarecrow, The Lion, and Dorothy with Toto. Oh, and Jaws; we were in about a foot of water so he was cool.
We heard them rather than saw them, but it was unmistakable. The Flying Monkeys. Not the cute, dorky ones from the original Wizard of Oz, no. The badass, scary as fuck Flying Monkeys from The Wiz. They hit one after the other of us. First The Lion was whisked away. Then Tin Man. Then Scarecrow. Then Dorothy (and her little dog too).
They came for me over and over again. Jaws would attack every time they got close. Monkey blood and guts everywhere. Looking back, this is the horror movie I wish they’d make.
I woke up startled and crying. My dad came into my roo…
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