Courtney's Going To Prom

8~Never Getting Rid Of Me

Tears. And a damn lot of them, might I add. It turns out that my dad getting shot was just a dream and thank god for my overactive imagination for that. I quickly wiped my tears away and quietly made my way into the bathroom to blow my nose. In the bathroom, I caught the sight of myself in the mirror. My shoulder length toffee colored hair is an absolute mess. My usual bright brown eyes are red and puffy. My soft skin is tear stained and covered in red blotches. I turned on the sink to as cold is it can go and took a cloth and soaked it in the water. I then started gently patting the cloth on my face in attempt to sooth my raw skin. Once the burning lowered to a more manageable pain, I wrung out the cloth and hung it on the towel rack to dry and quietly made my way back out of the bathroom.

As I sat on the edge of my bed, I saw a sliver of light pass through the curtains. I checked the time on my phone. It's almost 6:00. Well, I guess I don't get much sleep to run off of today. I fell back onto the bed and let the terrible thoughts of all three dreams rampage my head because there's no point in trying to stop them. If I try to make them go away they'll just come back. Since there's no point in trying to sleep, I sat there. And sat there. And sat there. I thought that a while had passed by till I looked at the time. It's only been five minutes.

Because I'd be sitting there for what would soon feel like an eternity, I decided to get up and ready for the day. I gathered all the clothing for my outfit today, - a denim jacket, pink shirt, and black ripped jeans - and headed back into the bathroom for the second time today. Once I was fully dressed, I brushed through my hair and threw it into a ponytail. I quickly plastered on a simple makeup look consisting of a thin layer of foundation and concealer, a bit of highlighter and eyeshadow, a couple coats of mascara and eyebrow filler and a thin line of eyeliner to top everything off. After posing in the mirror for a bit, I hid my fear from the nightmares behind a simple and sweet smile and left the bathroom to see dad sitting against the headboard of his bed.

"Someone's up early." He commented groggily, looking up from is phone.

"Couldn't sleep." I replied shortly, sitting back down on my bed

"Does it have anything to do with your dream?" Dad quizzed

"Yeah, but it's not the only one that happened." I replied, everything quickly flooding back into my mind like the doors to a dam breaking, releasing water into the deep ocean.

"What do you mean?" He asked

I sighed and began going through what happened throughout each of my three dreams. Each and everyone of them has stayed vivid in my mind since they occurred. I included every detail I could think of which was a surprising amount considering my not-so-great memory. While explaining the first dream, he sat and listened patiently and completely understood. During the second explanation, he began to question my well being. And I don't blame him because I'm in the same boat. Get it? Because I was in Heathers in the second dream. And there's a song called Lifeboat in Heathers. I'll shut up now. When I finally began explaining the third dream, the air in the room tensed and I began getting lesser and lesser responses from dad and felt my voice begin cracking as I reached the end of the malicious tale my mind created.

"And then, as Elliot tried to pull me off the stage and I refused, the woman shot you..." I explained

"That's why it disturbed you so much." He said, examining at me intently

I hummed in reply. There was a brief silence before dad spoke up, "How was Elliot doing in your dream?"

It's an odd question to ask but I have just the answer. "He told me he was doing good."

"Do you think your dream took place before or after he died?"

"I-I'm not sure." I stuttered, recalling the incident from almost two years ago