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In my dream, I found myself in a foggy, desolate town. The streets were empty, but I could feel someone watching me. Suddenly, a figure emerged from the mist: It was Choripan. His eyes were wild with a strange obsession, and he kept shouting, “Show me pictures of the average man and woman!!”
I felt a chill run down my spine. I didn’t understand why he wanted this, but I knew I had to get away. I turned and ran down the narrow alleys, weaving between crumbling buildings, but every corner I turned, there he was—Choripan, relentless and insistent, his voice echoing in my ears.
“Where are they? I need to see them!” he yelled, his tone growing more frantic. I tried to reason with him, to explain I didn’t have what he wanted, but he didn’t listen. He only got closer, his shadow stretching like a dark cloud over me.
I stumbled into a crowded marketplace, but the people around me were faceless, mere silhouettes. I called for help, but they couldn’t hear me, their attention absorbed by their own conversations. Choripan was right behind me, his breath hot on my neck, and I could feel the panic rising.
Desperate, I darted into a narrow alley, hoping to lose him. My heart raced as I pressed my back against the cold, rough wall, trying to catch my breath. I thought I had finally escaped. But then, a rustle echoed in the shadows. There he was again, more determined than ever, his eyes glinting with mania.
“Why won’t you just show me?” he demanded, his voice a mixture of rage and desperation. I felt trapped, as if the very air around me was closing in.
Every attempt to flee led me back to him. It was a nightmare of endless pursuit, with Choripan always lurking, always demanding. I couldn’t escape the weight of his insistence, the dread of not knowing what would happen if I didn’t comply.
Just when I thought I would be caught, I jolted awake, heart pounding. The dream lingered in my mind, a haunting reminder of how fear can chase you down, no matter where you try to hide.
I felt a chill run down my spine. I didn’t understand why he wanted this, but I knew I had to get away. I turned and ran down the narrow alleys, weaving between crumbling buildings, but every corner I turned, there he was—Choripan, relentless and insistent, his voice echoing in my ears.
“Where are they? I need to see them!” he yelled, his tone growing more frantic. I tried to reason with him, to explain I didn’t have what he wanted, but he didn’t listen. He only got closer, his shadow stretching like a dark cloud over me.
I stumbled into a crowded marketplace, but the people around me were faceless, mere silhouettes. I called for help, but they couldn’t hear me, their attention absorbed by their own conversations. Choripan was right behind me, his breath hot on my neck, and I could feel the panic rising.
Desperate, I darted into a narrow alley, hoping to lose him. My heart raced as I pressed my back against the cold, rough wall, trying to catch my breath. I thought I had finally escaped. But then, a rustle echoed in the shadows. There he was again, more determined than ever, his eyes glinting with mania.
“Why won’t you just show me?” he demanded, his voice a mixture of rage and desperation. I felt trapped, as if the very air around me was closing in.
Every attempt to flee led me back to him. It was a nightmare of endless pursuit, with Choripan always lurking, always demanding. I couldn’t escape the weight of his insistence, the dread of not knowing what would happen if I didn’t comply.
Just when I thought I would be caught, I jolted awake, heart pounding. The dream lingered in my mind, a haunting reminder of how fear can chase you down, no matter where you try to hide.
