After a shower I threw on some clothes and sat in bed. Just looking at the wood by my feet. I could imagine miles in between the space in between my head and feet. Shades of black and white rivers meeting the emptiness. I pulled the blanket up over me, even though I wasn't cold. The space around me needed to be smaller or the screaming in my chest would echo off of every wall.
Slowly I fell asleep in the blanket fortress.
My dream:
Waking up I jumped out of bed, checking behind me I saw my body. Covered in a sheet as I drifted farther.
"Hello?" I called into the shadows. My dreams black and white. I'm so lonely.
A clock ticks and I feel like I'm late, whenever I see this clock I think I'm late. I know I'm late to something. I left my room, correction, the room. Only materialistic objects make it mine. But if I try I can't make them out.
Step by step I make it down the stairs. Slowly cascading. Faces all around me, when I got to look I can't make them out.
I feel the real bed shift below me but I don't bother checking. The storm is here. I'm already hidden away behind broken glass and boarded windows.
YOU ARE READING
His Sick Obsessions
Misteri / ThrillerWhen obsession becomes more than just a deep secret it's just a matter of time before everyone else is pulled down with you. WARNING: The book is pretty bad in the beginning. Like grammar and dialogue is just kind of weird. Also people can't handle...
