"Welcome to the panic room
Where all your darkest fears are gonna
Come for you, come for you"- Panic Room by Au/Ra
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It starts the same every time...first the suffocating and oppressive tightness, it surrounds me, sucks me up and I have no room to move. And no matter how hard I try to wake up on my own, I can't. I could never.
I don't remember every dream, each one is different and yet the same. They started in my early childhood and have never gone away since. I think it's because the bad things we experience are the ones we remember for the rest of our lives. It sticks to us.
I never talk about my fear because it makes me weak. I don't want to be weak. I passed that point a long time ago, my father always made it clear to me that he didn't want a weak son. He wanted a man. So I became one. As a child, the only thing I ever wanted was to make my parents proud, so I did everything I could to achieve that. Every child wants that.
Pathetic I know, but I can't change the way I was.
I was always good with weapons, aiming was something that came easily to me and something I was always proud of. With fighting I had my problems. My mother sent me to boxing as a teenager to build up muscles, but I was too impulsive, never did what I should and exaggerated completely. However, I was strong...once I overpowered someone then there is no chance that they walk out alive again.
Even if my parents were not there for me as I had wished, I still had my little brother. Beckham didn't deserve what happened to him. He had been a quiet child, unlike me. He didn't look for fights or conflicts, he didn't punch people and he didn't take drugs. He was nothing like me and that was good.
But life is an unfair bitch. I should have been the one. Not him. But that is irrelevant now, he is dead and I am still alive. Real monsters live forever, right? Not only in your closet.
I remember waking up in the night, but how? Because when I woke up this morning I was alone. I also wonder how I fell asleep again so calmly without having another bad dream. Yesterday is and remains a mystery to me.
In addition to that I don't really know why I wanted to go to Ashley's last night, but my legs just did what they thought was right. However, seeing Ashely in the hallway made me freeze and I rethought my process until I just disappeared again. She did the same and we hadn't exchanged a word.
Where was she going? Was she going to see me?
At the thought my heart began to race faster but I tried not to drive myself unnecessarily crazy. After all, we are still at war with each other.
I am still hurt and angry that she defended her father like that and that she called me a monster again. I never cared what my father did for a living as long as he didn't drag me into it. And hers was just a big asshole as mine, no wonder they get along so well. Still, she stands up for him...
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Fanfiction[COMPLETED] 18+⚠️: Contains mature and sexual content // enemies to lovers "I hate you." I repeated as I continued to walk toward her, causing her to touch the closed refrigerator with her back as she backed away. "I hate you so much that sometimes...