My Head Is Lost

The actual story Part 1

I woke up screaming. Another image. This time it was just random scribbles. All of the images I get usually mean something to me. The scribbles in particular, mean being unable to control myself, and being trapped. I was breathing heavily, waiting for my mom to come in.
       "Alexandra! What happened?!?" My mother screamed.
        "I just scared myself, mother. I'm fine." I said very shy.
        She sighed. "This has happened every day this month. I really hope your fine."She said while walking out of my messy room.
        That was awful. I hate the images. They scare me, and I can't help that. They may not be terrifying to you, but to me, it's like death. Why am I like this. I'm scared of everything. I don't deserve a good night's sleep. But it sounded pretty nice right then. So I snuggled in bed with my ragged blanket, and fell back asleep.
         The next morning was a Saturday. I could wake up as late as I would like. At about ten O'clock, I went downstairs and had toast for breakfast.
          " How'd you sleep last night?" My mom asked me. " I mean, like after you woke up screaming. Speaking of that, are you okay?" She questioned me very concerned.
          "I slept good. And to answer your second question, I'm fine. Jus- just a bad dream." I answered. " Everything's fine." I mumbled to myself. My mom doesn't know about the images. But my dad does. Apparently, he has them too.
           "Alrighty then. I hope you feel well enough to go to your soccer game at tw O'clock." She said with a sly smile. Ugh. I completely forgot I commited to something physical and was expected to do it. " I'll go. I feel fine. Don't worry about me, mother." I guess I have no excuse, because the images are only there when I try to sleep.
           later that day, I went to soccer. We won. I think it's only because coach didn't put me in. I would of screwed it up.
           "Great job today girls! You all did your part to help us win!" Coach was saying. "I know it's almost the end of the season, so we need to step up our game! Therefore, you need to give effort in practice to actually get on the field." Everyone was staring at me, including coach. Of course I won't give effort. I don't even care.
            Really, the only reason I joined soccer was because of this old friend I had. She convinced me to join, but we're not even friends anymore. My mom just thinks that I still love it (which I never did) so she sends me back every season. Great.
            The next day, my stink wad brother, Adam, was back from his friend's sleep over. Okay, he's not really a stink wad. To be honest, I couldn't live without him.
He went right up to his room, and plopped down on his bed. I did the same on my bed. Finally a break. But then I heard something. Is it true? Is this really what I think it is? There's only one way to find out.