The Elements Book One: Fire

Chapter Two

I wake up, mercifully, but not until he had hurt me worse... Why must I feel pain in my dreams? Why must I remember every detail of every thing he did to me? I look at my clock and realize only 30 minutes has passed since I fell asleep. It's crazy, how nightmares stretch time. It's as if your head bends time to it's will, making it go slower or faster than normal. I wish mine went faster. That might give me some peace.

Who on earth is texting me at 1:45 in the morning? I swear, people need to learn space sometimes- No, wait. It's my boyfriend, checking on me. Nevermind, it's all good.

<Hey babe, whats up

Nightmare... wby>

<Just wanted to check on u.
  Everything alright?

Sorta... He was there again.>
Sliced me over and over...    
I'd rather forget it.                  

<I understand. Need
  me to call?

Nah. Get some sleep, I'll be>
fine. I promise. 

<Ok. I love you baby girl 😘

Love you too babe 💏>

I close messages and open memos, which is where I write journal entries allot. So far I have 245. Some of them are on other devices besides my phone though, so I still have some memory left in my phone.

Journal Entry #246__________________ _
Love thy babe, protect him too_____ ___
_____     __________________________ ____
Yes, I know I lied a bit. Its for his own _ good though... I'd rather him not get_ _ too wrapped up in this hell hole I know as post traumatic stress disorder. And  depression...aaand anxiety. Let's just _ say I have a whole list saved in my____ phone that's still growing with the shit I've been diagnosed with. I'd copy paste it, but I don't wanna bore you. The only reason I write anything down is_______ because it helps me get through this.__ Maybe one day I'll get magically better, and life will get easier.    ______________

I lay my phone down and pick up another thing I hold dear: My autoharp. With this one instrument, I can make a bad day good, I can bring in sunlight, or I can let my soul create a rainstorm that shows what kind of power there really can be in music. I love to sing along with it, and have perfect pitch. In case you are unfamiliar with this term, it is a shorter way of saying 'a special aptitude for listening to songs and then figuring them out.' It's a rare ability, to say the least, and to other people it seems like magic. For myself, it's just the way my logic works. Sound sound sound, not C D E. I only use musical letters to define the key, while using finger numbers to memorize songs on piano. Honestly, I never picked up the ability to read music. If you want me to learn a song, grab it and let me listen a few times to memorize the way the lyrics work, and occasionally I'll have to look up the chords, but after some practice I'll play it on piano or harp, whichever I feel like doing. But right now, I grab my harp and start strumming what I call the "everything chords," C twice, G twice, A minor twice, and F twice. You can play almost any song with these. Today... well, I'm trying to get some stuff off my chest. I wish that my past could disappear as fast as I play. Maybe I can drown them in my music. Maybe they'll stay in the dark this time. So I start to play, in hopes maybe the light will move to my world instead of theirs.