Most people love to dream, to fall asleep and imagine another world. All the possibilities and what if's that our mind can make up. Then there's the rest of us that dread closing our eyes and some nights we try absolutely anything just to not wake up in fear, soaked in our own sweat. A tired eye can tell so much about a person as long as you're willing to read them. Sometimes I beg my mind to close off my memory as if that will work. I've tried just about everything else from drinking myself to sleep, rolling one, many different pills I've been prescribed ( some I haven't ). Nothing keeps these terrors in the night at bay. As I eye my soft blue pillow I feel my eyes sting with exhaustion. I throw back another shot glass and swallow slowly to feel the burn in my throat and stomach. As I climb into bed I pull the comforter up to my chest while I tuck it around my body and slide it under my legs. I try to think about my classes in the morning hoping that I'll dream about that instead of him.
***
I'm running down the street again, it's so familiar yet everything is different. The sound of the shotgun rings in my ears but I'm still running so he hasn't hit me yet. "I told you this would happen if you told them! I can't protect you now!" His laugh sends shivers down my spine. Another shot but this one hits my calf, I release a blood curdling scream. As I hit the pavement I feel the rocks imprint into my skin I start to crawl trying to escape him, my blood pooling out leading a path to my weak pathetic body. Everything is dimming, I can feel that he's close but his footsteps are muffled and seem so far away. As if my brain is tricking me telling me I have time to escape. I wince in pain as I feel his hand grab my leg pulling me towards him. His eyes meet mine, his cold dead eyes look into my broken lost ones. "It was your choice and you had to make the worst one. I don't know whether to keep you alive long enough to watch them suffer or end your worthless existence now." There's no point in begging he doesn't care and I'm afraid if I talk he will just keep me alive longer. My silence answers his question. The cold hard barrel presses against my head as I hear the ringing from the shot and everything around me goes dark.***
As I shoot straight up in bed I reach for my calf. My throat burns as if I've actually been screaming for hours. As I feel my smooth leg and soaked bed I realize it was yet another horrible nightmare, I wish I didn't have to dream every time I closed my eyes. Seeing his face every time I close my eyes reminds me that I've not yet won and he's still in control. At least this time I got three hours of sleep instead of one, even if those three hours were drowning memories of the man who destroyed my childhood. The clock reads 3:56 am, class starts at 9. I know the semester is ending soon but the exhaustion wins and I look for the pill label that will knock me out until this time tomorrow. In a way I guess I have the choice to sleep but then I can't do anything with my life because I sleep right through it. I still dream just without the choice of waking up. At least I won't remember these ones. I know my body needs rest but I'll still wake up with the same mental exhaustion. The never ending cycle of meeting Timothy Erst.
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The sun
RomanceLife isn't fair. Well at least that's what they've always said. For the most part I agreed until early spring of my freshman year in college. That's when I met Marcus and he showed me just how "fair" I could make my life. They say you might as well...