I was only 15 when I started having the dreams. Night after night, beautiful dreams fill my mind. Adventure, romance, everything I love and crave. I keep coming back for more. These dreams are what keep me happy in a world of intense pain.
Everytime I wake up all I can think about is the dreams. I never want them to end. These were my will to live. The only thing I want is for them to never end.
Some nights I could hardly sleep. Everything seemed to mash together. I soon started missing the dreams. More and more it drove me crazy. I saved up all my money and bought sleeping pills. 1...2....3....7...pill after pill, dream after dream. I was still happy though. The dreams kept me happy
Days turn into blurs. I rush though them to get back to the dreams. My grades start to slip and my parents start to worry but who cares when you have you're own personal wonderland
On the day my dreams became a never ending nightmare it was raining. The sound of thunder was loud and most people jumped when they heard it. Not me though, I could hardly hear anything. I fell asleep in class again. The teacher called my parents again. I ran home, trying to get to my bed, to my dreams. I was met with two mad parents, staring down at me. They yelled and yelled until they finally got done with the blank stare I was giving them
Smack!
The sound echoed through the room. My hand raised to my red hot cheek. Tears fell down my face like the rain outside. I ran to my room, locking myself in. The first thing I saw was the pills. I grabbed the bottle and laid down. Was that really doing this? Seems like the best decision. I'll forever be living in my dream, no one would hurt me and I will be happy.
I took all the pills. Took them down one by one until I felt sick. I closed my eyes and I was back in my dream. Everything is still there but then it all started to fade away. My dream boy turned into this incredibly ugly beast and pulled me down to the ultimate nightmare.
