I gasped for air as I sprung up in bed. Another nightmare. When were these going to end? Life itself was ominous enough, let alone these reoccurring nuisances. I plopped my head back down onto the pillow, my sense dulling. The rain pitter-patted on my roof, trailed down my windows, and dripped to the streets below. I could hear sirens wailing in the distance, cars skidding through lingering puddles. Leaning off my bed, I caught a glimpse of my reflection. The face was unfamiliar. My eyes were vacant, my mouth was dry. I swallowed impulsively, blinking slowly. My breathing felt shallow and forced. Even so, I heaved a sigh and sunk back into my bed. My only escape was in two days, on September 3rd. 48 hours, 2880 minutes, 172,800 seconds.
172,799,
172,798.
Every second the day got closer. And that's what keeps me going.
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I hope you guys liked this story! It's about a girl whose been stretched thin over life, studies, and every other thing we have to worry about, but she finally is going to see her favorite band live in two days, and that's how she stays motivated.
xoxo, faith
