Phobia

Oh, Well, Ok. Just, No Sex, Right?

"Why are you running?" A loud voice asked. I wasn't sure where it was coming from, but I knew I had to keep running. I couldn't stop. It was dark and raining. Hard. I yelled out but nothing would come out, I was too tired, I didn't have enough energy. You could hear my flip flops hit the ground as I ran, echoing through the barren town, not a soul in sight. I shivered, only wearing my sleepwear which consisted of shorts and a tank top. I could feel my hair coating my face, sticking to my cheeks.
The voice echoed, repeating the same things. "Why are you running?", "Please stop," "Help me." I wasn't sure who it was, though the voice sounded familiar. It was a female voice, that was for sure. I couldn't tell who's it was, but those three sentences just kept repeating. It seemed to come from all directions, driving me insane. Suddenly, I stopped as I realized I was about to run off the docks. We didn't have any in our town, it was in a close neighbouring town. You could see it from almost any home in the city, as long as it was tall enough. It was practicially all one town, ours and theirs, but they refused to give up their name. Clearly, I was there. I recognized where I was, and my heart stopped. I hadn't come to this end of the water for a very long time, since my mother passed.

"Why didn't you help me?" The voice from behind me asked. I whirrled around to face my mother, in a bright pink dress. It was sticking to her skin, as well as her redish hair. Her hair reached her chest, but with it wet like this, it made it to just about her stomach. One of the straps of the dress laid unclipped, hanging in the front of her. Her makeup was smeared, tear stains on her face as well. I cried, looking at my mother. I missed her so much, and here she is, standing, blaming me for her death. Exactly what I've been doing for months now.

"You told me to get Christopher. You told me to save him!" I yelled over the wind and rain, tears streaming down my face.

"You should have come for me, Renee! I loved you, and you left me to get eaten! You left me there!"

"There wasn't enough room, Mom!" I cried, falling to my knees, crying.

"You're a failure, I can't believe I raised such a terrible daughter! Christopher would have saved me. He loves me."

"I do love you, Mom! I've always loved you! I was only listening to you!"

"I hate you."

The wind picked up, as I sat there, stunned by her words. My heart dropped as I looked at her. My mother hated me. I had tried to go for her, but the shark had already grabbed her and brought her underwater. The rain slowed, as I fell limb, looking at the ground, not sure what to say, or do. She hated me. My own mother hated me. It was my fault, I was the reason she was dead. She came up to me, and forced me to stand up and looked me directly into my eyes. She smirked.

"It's time for you to suffer!" She yelled, as if it was coming from the heavens. Thunder cracked through the sky, lighting illuminating my mothers face. She pushed me into the water, laughing. "Have a nice sleep, darling. If you aren't too scared." She said as I struggled to swim against the tide. My head kept going underwater. I was trying to get stabalized, trying to reach the docks. I grabbed hold of some wood, and I looked up to see my mother giving me an insane look. Thunder cracked again, lightening blinding me, and she was gone. My mother was gone, again.

I bolted up right. I felt around, feeling tangled and ruffled blankets. My shorts and shirt were stuck to my skin, as well as my hair. I was panting, sweating. The room was cold, and yet, here I was, hot. I looked at my clock which read, 4:36 AM.

Great, four-thirty in the morning on a Saturday. I sighed, swinging my legs off my bed and putting on bunny slippers. I walked over to my window, which over looked part of the roof. I grabbed my phone from the desk beside the window. I lifted it up and crawled outside, sitting on the roof, I let the wind hit my face. I pushed my hair back, calming me down. I've been having this dream ever since the first day of school. It's been a few weeks and it's been only hectic, especially with all the new older students. Setting things up and our assemblies have been all over the place. I don't even think the new students have been in a full class since their first day. Yet because of these dreams, I've been too scared to go to sleep. These nightmares wouldn't stop, and whenever I found enough courage to sleep, it would come back. I hated it, almost as much as I hated clowns. I turned my phone in my hand, unlocking it. I pressed the Message icon and began typing.