Behind Blue Eyes

11

March 11th

I wake up in a soft and gentle manner. The sun beams in through the window. Max is at the foot of my bed. He turns to look and see that I'm now awake and am thus able to shower him with attention. He runs up and rubs his face against my cheek. I love this little guy so much.

I replay the events from yesterday in my head. Actually, I haven't been able to stop thinking about yesterday since I got home. The time I spent with Paul has really stuck and resonated with me. I told David, mom and dad all about it yesterday. They all say it's the first signs of puppy love. I just tell them that he's a really good guy, but I'd be lying if I said he wasn't striking some sort of a chord with me.

I also think back to the plan that Dr. Rhedding detailed on Tuesday. I smile and lie around in bed for a little while longer, scrolling through the videos I see on TikTok, listening to a little bit of music and holding Max at the same time.

I reach over to my nighstand and pull open the middle drawer. From inside, I pull out a notebook. I decide on what my tiny accomplishment is going to be: I'm going to write a short story. Am I going to include myself as the main character? Well, sure, why not? It's my own thing, so why shouldn't I be able to be the star of my own show?

I spend most of the day writing it. It's a couple of pages and my handwriting is a bit shaky, but given that it only took a day to write it, it's pretty solid. I read over the story three times. The first is right after I wrote it, the second is during my bath in the late evening and the final time is right before I settle in for the night. I'm really surprised at how I crafted something like this. The words don't even feel like my own, but it's a nice story.

---

My story.

During the early morning hours, I'm struck awake by thundering rain pounding on my bedroom window. It startles me, drenching my entire body in sweat and fear. After a few minutes, my body stops trembling and is able to rest itself. It's just rain, I say in my head, but my heart doesn't seem to be listening. The sky seems to be growing darker every second that my eyes stay focused on the window. The clouds overshadow everything outside and the rain has completely drenched everything that's in sight. A swing set that I don't remember us having is almost flooded, the gleem from the water reflecting off of the swings and the slide.

I call out for my brother but he doesn't hear me. I rise out of my bed, as much as I don't want to leave it, and head for my door. I open it, but the door feels a lot heavier than it should. I pry it open, though. I walk down the hallway. It's longer than it normally is, and it's at this point I begin to question if I'm truly awake or if I'm stuck in this weird, dystopian nightmare. After what feels like forever, I reach David's door down the hall. I pry his door open, too. He's not in there. I turn around and call out his name three times. Each time, I get no response. Where is he? I pull out my phone and try to call him, text him, whatever I can to try to reach him, but every single time, I get no answer.

I race down the stairs, almost falling down them in the process. I struggle to turn every corner as I run around like a fool, trying to find my brother, my mother or my father. I'm all alone. Did they leave for somewhere and not tell me? Like some sort of sick surprise? I trudge back upstairs to see if my kitten is still residing in my bed. I push my door open, again. I'm not sure how it came to be closed again. I look on my bed. Max isn't there. What the hell is going on?

My feet feel like they're sinking into the floor. I feel my whole body falling through the carpet of my bedroom. I struggle, trying everything I can to fight it. As the floor reaches my chest, I try to dig my fingers into the floor, trying like hell to not go through, making sure I can somehow crawl back up. It's no use. I fall through the floor.

I'm in a deep void. It's a black, empty and hollow room. At least, I think it's a room. There's a bunch of noises. Scratching, heavy breathing, screaming. I see visions of people who aren't in my life, anymore. My birth mother, my friend Jessica, none of them are alive to be in my life, anymore, but they stand before me, clear as day. Jessica grabs me by the shoulders and shakes me, violently, almost like she's trying to kill me. My birth mom is standing over us, watching it, almost enjoying it. She never loved me like she was supposed to. I feel like Jessica didn't either, but Jessica had her own demons she was fighting, and thus, I couldn't save her.

As Jessica's menacing, pale face get's closer to mine, my body rises up and shoots back into my bed. I wake up, for real this time. It's late at night, my room enlightened only by an orange nightlight. Max is here. I can feel him, touch him with my bare hands. My nightmare might have been just that on face value: a nightmare. To me, though, and how I overthink everything, It means a lot more. I still have these horrible feelings after all these years. I have these memories of being mistreated, of being abused, of feeling helpless. I don't know what spurred these demons to come out, but they did. It shakes my body to the core. No matter how long I live, these people will still haunt me.