Excerpts From A Book Of Myself

D R E A M E R. +

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He was a boy that liked to draw. He drew pictures that nobody saw. All alone late at night, he'd stray away in his room. Thoughts crept across his mind like shadows in the moonlight. He'd wake up every night and have the scaring thought of kissing razors. One day he gave into the thoughts of it and let the cool metal drag across his skin. Drag after drag, after drag, until it all went black. 'The pain is gone. It's over now.' That is what the little voice in the back of his mind told him every time he went deeper. Hours later his best friend found him lying on the floor surrounded. Why did she have to wait? Where was she all this time?

"What a waste of a perfectly good and clean wrist," the girl said rather than crying. She rose to her feet and did what she needed to for by the time she had reached him, he was already gone. She thought she had known the boy and that he was fine. After all, he did smile and laugh normally every day.

But looks can be deceiving after all.

Weeks passed and the girl did not cry because for her, he was not gone. He too was a dreamer like her.

The girl was too consumed in her nightmares to ever grieve. She held the cold metal of the barrel to her heart. One click and it would be over. In a matter of seconds all that she saw was pitch black too.

Silence.

Nothing.

But after what felt like years she saw a bright light. That light was from a lighting fixture. She had survived. When she collected her surroundings and looked over, she saw the boy. She thought it had all been one of her silly nightmares and that everything was okay. But it wasn't. He was just another figment of her dreams.