The Dreams (updating slowly)

chapter 1

-Hi! So thank you to all that are reading this it means a lot. And please feel free to tell me what you think (ex.- what you like/ dislike/etc.) of the story so far, I’m not afraid of mean comments.:)

P.S.- this book is dedicated to all the people who have sumitted covers for me. i can not thank them enough for taking time to make a cover for me and making my decision for the cover of this book hard. :] thanks.

 p.s.s.- picture on the side is Luna

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Chapter 1

“Ah, shit!” I hiss, I never know why I even bother cleaning up the freshly made cuts on my wrist and arms. I make my way to my bathroom sink. As I let the warm water run down my arm I come aquatinted once again with my good friend pain. We have been friends for a while now. The day of my 14th birthday is the first day we met through cutting. That day was the day I found my release.

It’s 11 o'clock in the morning, the day after my high school graduation and I just woke up because of another dream. I remember my first dream like it was yesterday. I was only eight years old at the time though. Overtime I have forgotten some not so interesting dreams I have had but not the first one. The first dream I had, I have always remembered.

*Flashback*

I slowly start walking up my stairs leading to my bedroom to go put my pajamas on. Today it was my white nightgown. My daddy had just finished yelling at me and mommy. When I got to my room I put on my pajamas and went into my bathroom across the hallway. When I got there I stepped on the little stool just for me and looked into the mirror. I saw my face. It was stained with tears; my big hazel eyes were red and puffy. On the corner of my eye I see a red mark on my shoulder from where daddy grabbed me. I take my purple tooth brush apply my toothpaste, and brush my teeth. After I put my tooth brush back, and I walk into my bright pink room. I hated pink but mommy and daddy didn’t know. I think they would hit me again if they found out. I climb into my SpongeBob bed, and close my eyes.

Next thing I know I'm in the forest surrounded by trees 10 times my height. I look up and see the moon. I start walking forward, I'm not sure why, but I did. I walked, and walked, and walked I didn't get tired so I saw no point in stopping. As I walk I heard a sound. A weeping sound, I walk towards the sound but slower than before not knowing what to expect. It led me to a clearing. In the clearing there was grass, and a boy? I slowly walk into the clearing closer to the boy to get a closer look. Why is there a boy in my dream?

The boy seemed about my age, I thought he was kind of cute. He had dark brown hair, but I couldn’t see his eyes because was in a ball crying. I saw he had on shorts that basketball player wear. He didn’t have any shoes.

I wanted to know what was wrong with the stranger boy. I tried to walk closet to him again, but my feet wouldn’t move. I tried to reach out and touch him, but I couldn’t reach. I tried to speak but no words came out. I was scared so I yelled, but no one heard me.

Then slowly he started to drift away. Then he started drifting away faster and my hair was blowing around my face. I could barely see him anymore. At the last second he lifted his head up and stared right at me. All I could do was stare back at him. It felt like he was right in front of me but I knew he was so far. His eyes were red from crying. Then everything was black, and I realized that all of that was just a strange dream.

*End of Flashback*

I sigh it was so fucking long ago. I still don’t know why I remember it so well. It didn't make sense. I am 18 years old now, I don't remember dreams I had from two years ago yet I remember the first one I had when I was eight years old. That's at least 10 years, 10 freaking years!

I look at myself in the mirror; I see my hazel eyes looking back at me. I have light peach colored skin, with dark black hair coming out if my scalp that makes the night sky look bright. No, this is not me. It’s the shell of a girl who has lost herself to her fucking terrible life. Her small puny, twisted-up, stomped on, messed-up and terrifyingly ugly soul has had to deal with a little so much of her abusive parents and suicides.

I walk back into my room of my apartment, well more like room with kitchen and bathroom. It’s not the worst apartment in the duplex but defiantly one of them. It’s not my fault I can’t afford another one.

 I need something to do; I have a full year before I start school again so I can save up money. Since I was a straight A+ student I got full scholarships to everything at plenty of colleges. But in a year I’m probably not going to be alive anyway so what’s the point; but if the dreams keep happening then who the hell knows. Especially if the damn boy keeps asking me to stay alive; I swear it is the only reason I’m walking, breathing, moving, eating, and not six feet under.

I need something, a plan. Of what I’m going to do… how I’m going to kill myself, and when. One thing I will do is find out what my dreams mean. I know my dreams aren’t normal. Last time I checked most people don’t know how to walk, talk, and control their dreams at their free will.

 Okay that will be it then I will do research to find out why I have these dreams. And after that task is done I am sure I can die happy. For the most part, but if I stop having these dreams before a least… a week straight I’ll say. I should be in the go to do the deed then.

I still do not know why my brain decided to make him. At the same time I thank it. There are times I think it is my conscience talking to me in my dreams, and that’s why we argue so much. Or many it’s just its way of staying strong. The thing I don’t understand is if he was my conscience why would he age with me? Why wouldn’t I just find him as an old man?