MY Thoughts

Story #2

I have always been a lucid dreamer no matter how weird my dreams seem to be. My nightmares are different. My nightmares aren't about zombies, vampires, etc. My nightmares have always been about my inner demons. I've done a lot of fucked up shit but it is what defines me.

Blood

Blood drips from my arms but it has no comparison to the tears that drip from my eyes. They told me it would stop. They told me I would be fine. What a bunch of fucking liars. No matter how much I try, I will never be okay. I sit in my restroom, laying on the ground. I spread out some towels so the blood wouldn't make such a mess. A crowd of my best friends sit around me, cheering me on. All of them except for one. One of them is holding me, keeping me conscious. She is crying onto my face, replacing my tears with hers. She grips my wrists and clears away the cuts and blood. I tell her to stop but she won't. It all continues to appear on her body instead. "PLEASE STOP!" She tells me that she is doing it because she loves me. She lets go of me and I stop crying. A plaster a smile on my face and forget everything. She is laying on the ground crying. I leave the restroom until I realize what I've done. When I run back to the restroom, the door is locked. No matter how much I try she won't open up the door. She won't let me in. I can hear her crying, the stench of blood reeking from the restroom. I can't help her because the door is locked. I can't help her because I fucked it all up. It is all my fault. I find a gun and put it in my mouth. I pull the trigger and open my eyes. I'm still alive but the crying from the restroom stops. I killed her for trying to help me. I fucked it all up but she made it all better until I fucked it some more. It is all my fault.

The End