Only a dream

Chapter 20

~ She runs in the meadows, dances under the trees.

She picks all the flowers, sways in the breeze.

Sings to the birds, laughs to herself.

But she has no words, nothing to tell.

A silent creature she is. Hiding away at night.

Quite and shy, hidden from light.

She craves to be free, but won't budge.

She has seen me, but doesn't care much.

She hates her life, wants an end.

She spots the knife, the thought in her head.

Is this because of me? Is that why she wants to die?

Does she hate black hair? Despise blue eyes?

She's just a girl, so sweet and young.

But she wants no more, she thinks she's done.

Tears drip from her eyes, slow and sad.

They too fall from mine, but not as bad.

Her's are real, they come from inside.

Mine are not, they are lies.

For i am her, she is me.

She hates herself, wants to leave.

A mirror has done no good for her.

She cannot go on much more.

Plunging the knife into her wrist, the blood drips down

Intricate patterns cause her to frown.

The pain she feels, it hurts so bad.

My pain is not real, it makes her mad.

She screams at me, hatred and fury.

She says I'm not real, just an image that's blurry.

But I am her, and she is me.

Bound together, never to be freed.

This young, hateful girl who's done with my lies.

I am her reflection and she is mine.~

The moon has stopped dripping. The blood is gone, although there's still something red in he sky. Maybe it is the moon? I hate this. Not knowing anything. It happens to much. Where's James? Where am I? What's the point of all this?

I roll onto my side and push myself to my feet. The ground beneath me is now grey. I think it's sand, or maybe dust. It stretches as far as I can see. Grey. Everywhere. It's like I'm in one of those old fashioned movies or photos. He sky is grey too. A dull, flat grey, filled with nothing. Not even the moon.

"James!" I call, panic threatening to eat my stomach. "Where are you?"

I take several steps in one direction, but I don't know what direction it is because everything looks the same. Or should I say nothing looks the same. My feet stumble on the sandy floor and I fall to my knees. As soon as my fingers make contact with the dusty ground I know something is terrible wrong. Well, more wrong then it already is.

The grey sand turns a bright shade of crimson when my skin touches it. So bright, I almost squint my eyes.

I pick up a handful of the blood red stuff and examine it closer. The texture is almost leathery, although it looks only like grainy pieces of dirt. When I drop it down back to the ground it drips, like water. Or blood. Huh.