Crimson Academy

Who Did This?

I don't wake up sweating this time, jerking awake from the nightmare.

No.

This time I feel like I'm paralyzed, stuck in the same position laying on the bed my eyes wide staring at the ceiling, completely out of it. My heart still feels like it might explode and the panic in my chest is greater.

Because I did not have a nightmare about Cohen.

I had a nightmare about someone who could be worse, someone I haven't had a nightmare about in a long time, someone I tried so hard to delete from my memory with fail apparently.

I'm still stuck, not being able to move or soothe myself.

What feels like an hour of panic passes before I regain mobility in my body.

I sit up from the bed and let out a heavy sigh, holding my head in my hands and rubbing my temples due to the straining headache I have.

There are dried tears on my face that I wipe away, not even realizing I cried in the first place.

I go to the bathroom to throw cold water on my face, getting rid of the panicky feeling completely and leave my room.

I can hear voices getting louder as I make my way down the hallway. Laughter coming from the kitchen that I ignore and make my way to the laundry room that's in the opposite direction.

I expected to find my clothes still in the dryer but as I approach, I see them all folded into a neat pile on top of the dryer.

I don't remember doing that last night.

Which means someone else did it for me. I try not to dwell on that for too long, thinking about a nice gesture after what I heard last night.

Last night.

I'm not as upset as I was when I first heard Finns words.

After my mission clarity sank in. I held on to hope that I could fit in somewhere, find a home of my own, someone who loves me.

And I might not have found some of that, but that's okay.

I can't expect people to like me, especially if they were forced to live with me and I won't hold it against them.

If we weren't meant to be friends then that's that.

I won't be rude and ignore him or treat him differently than before, but my expectations have been set for the rest of my time here and what to expect from him and I won't hold any animosity towards him.

But I don't think at this moment I want to spend time with him, especially after the nightmare.

So, I grab my clothes from on top of the dryer and head back to my room.

Now in the light of the day I can fully inspect my clothes.

There's a rip in the abdomen where I have a matching cut on myself. Its not big but it's a little annoying.

I really liked this shirt.

Other than that, nothing else stands out, the blood and dirt were completely washed out but now I can see the sweatshirt more clearly.

And there's no way I'm giving this back.

It's not just a black sweatshirt but has a print on the back of it, one that I recognize right away

Elvis.

It's a print of Elvis in concert and someone's going to have to fight me if they want it back.