What would she have nightmares about? I mean, apart from a girl named Dorothy making a house fall on her.

So there's probably a question I should ask myself at this point.
Why am I writing a blog post in the middle of the night, on someone else's computer?
The quick and simple answer is, I need to get my mind off a couple of things. And for right now I'll leave it at that. Next post, I will tell you guys what's been going on. But for now I just need to talk.
So that need is probably not going to be fulfilled by posting, because it's all completely one-sided, isn't it? ...I honestly dunno; I'm too tired to think.
So now I'm going to write about some thoughts I've been having. Conflicting, isn't it?

Priority first: I've been thinking about some words I despise. Let's see... "Bellow", "wrench", "caw", "dreg", and... err, there's a couple more that I can't remember. I'm also currently obsessed with the phrase thrill of fear. I dunno, it's just good for dramatic stories and whatnot. I'm not too fond of the word "whatnot", either. Okay, stopping, sorry, sorry, I can't think of other things to write.

Hmmm, how 'bout a story? I'll write it as I type. (Duh moment.) Erm, let's make it a horror, shall we? Just to add to my current situation (in complete darkness with everyone else asleep; the house is old and constantly makes strange noises, and I watched a horror movie and two tv shows about people being kidnapped today). Yep, I think a horror story will fit well.
Doubting it'll be scary, buuuut whatcha gonna do. Think, think. Let's base it on Hannibal Lecter, hm? That'll work. I watched Silence of the Lambs again today.
Whilst we're on the topic, have you guys seen the movie? Liked it, didn't? I think it's a good movie-- bit disturbing, but oh well. The book's even more so, and I liked that more than the movie.
And I know that there are already like four books about Hannibal, but what can I say? He's a good character. A little disturbing-- haha, just had to do that for the deja vu moment-- but very... interesting. Another movie to see/book to read is Hannibal Rising.
Sigh. Tis true, I'm rambling. Apologies.

I'm just going to do what I did with that Pirates of the Caribbean scene and describe it as I remember. Maybe next post I can copy the actual text from the book with the same scene and see how I did... Just a thought.

Clarice stared at the metal, barred door in front of her. It not only signalled a high security room that forcefully accommodated the criminally insane, but also represented what kind of life she could look forward to from this point onwards. Prison cells, asylums, secure walls that held men with gaping holes where their hearts should have been away from those of the public-- her world, the safe one. Endlessly would she be journeying between these "worlds", these distinguishable lifestyles. Stepping through this door validated that she was willing to do this, that she could maintain living life, every day in contact with those of the likes of Dr Lecter. She shuddered as her mind screamed the name in warning.
Dr Hannibal Lecter. She pictured his face; she knew it well, as well as every other aspect of him. The psychiatrist who, once renowned for being an unbelievable genius, became internationally infamous for a certain crime that earned him the press's nickname, "Hannibal the Cannibal".
In no way was the term figurative, as Dr Lecter had been arrested after serving human flesh at a dinner party. He was, of course, a most notorious murderer.
So Clarice Starling, training to be an FBI agent, would of course know his name and more. Of course she would know about his debarkles, his pure genius and cunning plans. But one thing that she could never have comprehended was his courtesy.
When the door to the asylum's most secure cells jolted open and screeched its acceptance, Clarice was forced to breathe in deeply and urge herself to step forward. She stepped into a dark hallway and a small, nagging doubt started to grow in the back of her mind.
The hallway was dank and depressing; the people that Clarice walked past in each cell seemed wasted away and hopeless-- their time in this world was probably not long. Small lightbulbs hung from the ceiling and flickered on and off as they pleased. The stone wall on Starling's right was old and decaying; moisture had condensed on its surface and moss had begun to grow. Spider webs crept along the ceiling's corners and nooks, and at this point the nagging feeling in the back of Clarice's head had accelerated far past that of reason. She did not let it show as she continued to walk down her paved walkway, surely the passage would end soon enough.
And there it was-- a chair, sitting in front of a cell. Except, the cell was not barred as were the others. This one was encased in bullet-proof glass. And Clarice knew why. It was like a twisted pet shop: the mutts were forced into cages while the pedigree sat up front with the owner.
Or rather, as she had been told before she had entered, Lecter was too smart to be held behind bars.
The glass was without blemishes, and the only falter in the surface were the small round holes lining the top of the confined area, and a rectangular box sitting in the right corner. It appeared to be the box used to pass objects through to him.
And finally, the face that had been plastered in her mind scrutinised her own, staring at her with maroon eyes and an angular jaw. Hannibal Lecter stood mere feet away from her.

Okay, I can't write any more right now. Hope it was okay... like I said, I'm drifting in and out of consciousness, so excuse any grammatical errors, hehe. Cya guys, I'll post in the next three days or so. And answer the comments that I have yet to answer, of course.
<3