It was dark. I had my knees pressed against my chest. The one thing that could be heard was my breathe and pounding heart beat. Sweat rolled down my face. It was dark.
A hand tapped my left shoulder and I jumped while looking behind me, but before I could see who it was, I had sat up in my bed, while screaming.
I dug my nails into the sheets because if I can't grip reality, I'll grip my bed. I couldn't hear anything, except for the haunting sounds of: 'They're going to get you, They're going to get you'
I was numb;
useless;
cold;
tired.
I was scared.
I fell back in my bed once my screams died down, once I lost my voice.
I was drowning.
Drowning in cold, deep water.
In guilt.
In anxiety.
In fear.
In depression.
I wanted this. I deserved this.
I tried to get to the top but it was no use. No air. No point in breathing. No point anymore.
"They're going to get you" I swam as much as I could but the more I moved, the more the iced cold water burned my skin. Icicles tore at my legs, blood mixed into the water. I choked in a panic on my own hot thick blood.
I woke up. Back in bed. The morning sun blinding me. I rolled over and was met by the calming eyes of her. She lightly kissed my nose and smiled. I stretched my arms out and pulled her close, taking in her fresh scent.
"I had a bad dream,"
"Not all dreams come true, I'm here now."
YOU ARE READING
Jamie's Diary
Hayran KurguJust another edgy teen and isn't like most girls and has deep complex emotions and cries alot to The Beatles while clutching a ukulele close and wearing a slash band t-shirt and yellow scrunchie cause I'm a hopeless romantic that fits the aesthetic👌
