Saved by Our Dreams

Prologue

                  Jessie walked through the door of her small apartment. In her hand, she held a painting. It was something she painted herself; she was a painter and a glorious one at that, but she wasn't fond of the idea of showing anyone her work. She took note of the empty space and the quietness. Once she realized she was home alone, she let out a heavy sigh and went to her room. She set her painting in her closet, away from the world, and started her homework.

Luke gently opened the door to his messy, run down home and walked in, hearing the gentle click of the door as it shut. He heard his father's loud snores and sighed in relief. He slowly climbed up the creaking steps, book bag over his shoulder, and made his way to his small, cramped room. He eased the door shut, plopping on his bed. He glanced at the picture on his nightstand; the only one he had of his mother before she died from an accident. He sighed and laid down, staring at it for awhile.

Violet came through the doors of Jackson's Foster Home, hugging the small children who came to greet her. She smiled gratefully and waited for the excitement to die down. Once she could extract herself from them, she went to her room. Her roommate, Maggie, was perched on her bed, reading from her history book. Violet waved at her and sat on her own bed. She contemplated on whether she should start her homework or mourn over her parents death.

Jasmine plopped on her couch next to her adoptive mother, Lauren. "Hey. How was school?" she asked in her chirpy, high pitched voice. "It was okay..." Jasmine trailed off, pulling her books out of her bag. She heard Lauren sigh. "I know this life is new for you, but it's better than you think," the brunette said, moving Jasmine's long, wavy, black hair back, "you'll get through it." Jasmine hoped she was right, but most importantly, she hoped she'd at least make a friend soon.

Lucas laughed, as his friend, John, slapped his back and waved bye. He went his way, walking up the front steps. As soon as he walked in, he heard his mom and dad screaming. He heard things like "It's your fault he's falling behind" and "He's never going to have a bright future with you here". Lucas sighed and walked out the back door, climbing the ladder to his tree house. There, he could hear them screaming, as he waited for the argument to die down.

Rain walked down the aisles of the cemetery. She found her friend's grave, flowers spread all around if. Most of them were tulips, being it was her friend's favorite. Angela, June 17 1997- September 13, 2014. "A beloved friend and family member," Rain whispered, tears filling her eyes. She sat on the ground, wishing it was Angela in the driver's seat instead her.

Storm sat on the swings in the pouring rain. His phone was ringing like mad. It was probably his parents wanting to know where he was. He shrugged it off and stared at the cars driving by. He remembered the days where he would be at this exact spot with his little sister. But she was taken away, and he didn't know why really. He still grieved, for his parents were the only people that knew.

Jack stared out his window, his hands against the cold glass. When he removed them, frost-like hand prints stayed there. He watched them disappear, intrigued by this. He remembered him and his older sister, Katie, doing this when they were younger; now, she was in college. She hadn't visited since the day she left, but he will always remember the sad look in her eyes, as she left him with his abusive parents.

Now, these 8 trouble some teens have something in common. It's not that they are having a hard time with life right now. It's not the depression. It's the idea of their own world existing. They all want a world to be free and without worry. But as they go to bed at night, they realize this world only exists in their dreams.