It all started when I was a young child. I lived in a small home around the time that George H. W. Bush was leaving office. Though I never got to see the old man in office, I got a chance to see his successor, an older hippie named Clinton.

Sometimes, I worried if he was doing worse for the country that he thought.

My father bought a computer that was way to slow and I thought I would help it out. SO, I stick a power cable into it and, in complicated mode, I hooked it to my car engine. When I gave the car gas, the computer was filled with megatons of electricity and power.

It broke off the desk, running haywire around us. It soon become a monster, its wires flung around the house. It knocked over our things and our pictures. I ran from it, as it scooted towards me with angry speed. I was crying I was scared.

Then, my dog came to the rescue...some rescue, the computer ate it through the printer. Finally, I grabbed the pistol from my father's drawer, but at great loss...the printer ate my sister!

I shot the propane tank and jumped out the window as the house exploded. Finally, I rendezvoused with my mum and dad. Then the door broke down and the vile, burning monster of technology came towards me. I mustered what strength I had and shot it repeatedly. It finally died.

I turned around, only to be attacked by another wire and then...I woke up.

I hate nightmares.