Have you ever had a dream? Yes, of course you have. We have several dreams each night, even if we don't remember them, but Margo Wilk is different. She has dreams, just like everyone else, except hers aren't just dreams. She sees and experiences eve...
I am at a large soccer field, cheering soccer moms and dads surrounding me. A particularly small kid scores a goal, and parents flood onto the field, hugging their kids and clapping. A middle-age looking man hoists the small boy with thick, dark curls onto his shoulders and cheers.
Then, nothing.
The sound of the generic iPhone default alarm slowly grows louder and louder as I wake up. I rub my eyes, roll over, and press the power button on my phone. Groggily, I reach over all the clutter on my nightstand to my notebook and pen, sit up, and start to write.
Every morning that I can remember my dreams, I write them down so I can look back on them and try to figure them out. Today, there isn't much to figure out. I've already realized that my dream was my younger brother, Toby, scoring the winning goal in his championship soccer game. I smile to myself as I remember how happy he looked.
Most of the time, I don't know the context of my dreams, so they really mean nothing to me until they actually happen. So when they do happen, I read my journal again to kind of analyze it, I guess? Even if I don't need to "analyze" it, I still write them down so I can remember them.
After writing about the snippets of Toby's game that I saw, I toss my notebook and pen onto the ground and stretch out, popping my back, neck, and knuckles in the process. My mom says I'll get Arthritis because I pop my knuckles so much, but haven't there been studies or whatever about how it isn't actually harmful? I don't know.
I grab my phone to check my notifications and just see a couple likes on my last Instagram post: a photo of my two best friends, Tyler and Jaclyn, and I at the beach a couple of weeks ago. I posted it last night as a cliché "end of summer" post. We had gone to the beach to celebrate my 17th birthday. Almost everyone in the senior class, including Tyler and Jaclyn, is older than me, but that doesn't really bother me.
I wake up earlier than all my friends, so normally I don't have any notifications in the morning until about 7 AM. I get really stressed out when I'm late, so I always make sure to wake up at least an hour before I have to leave the house.
I tap on Snapchat and watch the daily story-type things I'm subscribed to: BuzzFeed, MTV, and Cosmopolitan. I sift through them quickly, reading the interesting articles and watching the funny videos. I then scroll through my Twitter and Instagram feed and decide to tweet something witty about school. I know, I'm the epitome of basic teens.
I groan, pry myself out of bed, and walk downstairs into my kitchen. I grab a chocolate flavored protein shake from my pantry and replace the cold one in my fridge with the one I just picked up, as my mother always tells me to do. I'm definitely not a breakfast person, so if I don't drink these things, I normally either skip breakfast all together or have a Pop-Tart, so I figure this is the healthier option.
After struggling to open the drink, I throw away the plastic cap and trudge back upstairs. I open the door to my all-white bedroom, grab my laptop, and sit down at my vanity. Yawning, I pull up my family's Netflix account and start an episode of Friends. Some mornings I watch YouTube, but I'm not feeling it today.
With my favorite show as background noise, I start putting on my cheap makeup. I love going into Sephora, but I'm really poor so I never buy anything. I try to stick to the basics: mascara, brows, foundation, concealer, powder, bronzer, and highlighter. By the time I'm done caking my face, it's 6:47.
I pad over to my closet and lazily pull out what I wear literally every day: my favorite athletic shorts and a black t-shirt. (black so that no one sees my sweat stains- I sweat like a freaking pig) I then realized that it was the first day of school, which means I have to meet the standards of all of my peers from now on. Great. I drop my first outfit on my carpet and rethink things.
After sifting through a couple options, I settle on some basic jean shorts and a loose-fitting striped t-shirt from Forever 21. I throw my clothes on and put my hair in a ponytail. I barely ever bother brushing my hair, why start now? I check my phone and see a couple notifications. The first is a text from Tyler, so I reply.
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I laugh to myself as I flop down onto my bed and open the snapchat I just received from Jaclyn.
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I quickly reply asking her to bring me a Diet Coke; Jaclyn goes to McDonald's for breakfast nearly every day, I have no clue how she stays so skinny. Needless to say, I'm jealous. I lazily send messages to all my friends that I have streaks with, and then check Twitter again.
In the middle of scrolling, I hear footsteps coming up my stairs. I already know it's Tyler, so I run to the side of my door and get ready to attempt to scare him. I squeeze myself into the corner so he can't see me and hold my breath.
The door gets pushed open and I jump forward, "Boo!"
Tyler doesn't flinch: "What the hell? You're so weird."
"I was trying to scare you."
"Yeah, I got that," he laughs. "What did you need help with?" he asks, dropping his bookbag onto my bed.
"Nothing, I was just bored. Entertain me."
"Oh my God, you're so dumb." He flops onto my bed and pretends to go to sleep. "I don't want to go to schoooool," he groans.
"It's senior year, it'll be so much fun!" I say in an annoying voice, imitating all the enthusiastic teachers from our senior orientation meeting last week, sitting next to him on the bed and grabbing my phone again.
"It's 7:15, we should go," Tyler says.
"Okay, hold on a sec," I say, walking over to my desk-mirror and giving myself a once-over. I turn to my best friend and ask, "Do I look okay?"
"No, you look so bad," he replies with a feigned look of disgust plastering his face.
"I'm serious!"
"Yeah, you look fine. Let's go."
With that, we get into my car and drive off to hell.
