He doesn't want to wake up.
The reality and life that he has created within his head has grown familiar to him, to the point where all other memories of the real world have slipped away. What he has so carefully and meticulously fabricated is, in all its beauty, perfect.
Within his sleep, he tosses and turns on the white sheets of the bed. On his forehead, sweat collects into beads, plastering his hair to his skin. His eyebrows furrow together in fear, his heart begins to race within his chest. He's having another nightmare.
Suddenly he lets out an anguished scream as his nightmare quickly shifts into a night terror. He unconsciously lashes out at an unseen entity as if he's desperately trying to defend himself. Strings of mumbled words leave his mouth as tears begin to fall from his closed eyes.
"No... please don't... not my wings... please... NO!"
He bolts upright in the bed, chest heaving and eyes wide with fear as he looks around the room.
He's finally awake.
YOU ARE READING
angst [bts]
Short Storya collection of semi-poorly written angst stories that helped me channel my depression into something less destructive [ contains mature content, with themes surrounding depression, self-harm, suicide, and death ] { reader discretion is heavily ad...
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