indecisive (on hold)

4.

I shoot my eyes open. My breathing is erratic and I am frantically looking around.

“Fuck,” I whisper. The scream had been my own. The nightmares. They’re back. “Calm down. I’m okay. I’m okay.”

No. No, I'm not.

I repeat myself many times, but my breathing won’t slow down and I don't even believe my own words. I begin to cry. My eyes tint with blue. Hugging my legs, I tuck my face into my knees and rock back and forth as I sob. My room as grown colder, the sheets of my bed covering in frost, spreading in the opposite way of my body. My nightmares occur at least once a week, sometimes more. This one was horrible, it seemed so real. I hate to even think about it. Reliving those days over and over.  They were traumatic, nothing a person should have to go through. To make me feel slightly better, I grab my journal and write a short entry.

JULY 26, 2014

It's been so many years, yet, I'm still haunted with these nightmares. They do not let me have peace. Will they ever go away? When will I  be able to escape this Hell that lives inside of me?

Never.

I close the journal and place it in its original location. I try to shake off the dream, but it refuses to leave, haunting me for the rest of the night until I cry myself back into slumber.

 ***

(285 days before)

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP!

“Shit! Shit! Shit!” I jolt awake. My damn alarm was louder than usual, scaring me half to death. I quickly grab my phone and shut it off. I fall back onto my bed and calm down from my death scare. Memories of last night, flashing through my mind. My scream, that nightmare, the crying. I sigh heavily and get up.

I can smell my dirty hair immediately. I desperately need a shower. My hair always got greasy so quickly. As I make my way across the hall, I turn on my music. I like to sing in the shower. I lived alone so I didn’t need to be ashamed that I can’t sing to save my life. Give Me Love by Ed Sheeran fills the bathroom. I don’t want to look in the mirror today. I want to have a good day. I strip off of my clothing and step into the shower.

“..after my blood is drowning in alcohol. Hmmm, no I just wanna hooold yaa..” I sing through the rushing water, “give a little time to meee or burn this out! We’ll played hide and seek, to turn this around! All I want, is the taste that your lips allow! My, my, my, my, my oh GIVE ME LOVE!”

After my little concert, and getting cleaned, I step out of the shower and back into my room for my outfit. It was only 7:20, so I have lots of time. I tightly place the towel around my body and grab a bra and some underwear. I grab a plain black circular skirt, along with some spanks and throw them onto the bed. For a shirt, I decide on a plain blue button up. I look upon my wrist and see my cuts, they’re starting to scab. I will be fine today. I slip out of the towel, dry my hair slightly and  place my undergarments on, followed by my spanks and shirt. I button it all the way down and tucked the ends into my spanks.

Next, I slide the skirt up my thighs and roll my sleeves. I pull it to my belly button then stretch my arms up, so the shirt will be looser.  The skirt falls to my mid- thigh. I look into the mirror and see the outfit looks a little too plain. So, I add a woven belt around the top of the skirt. I also add shear tights, insecure of my legs.

Satisfied with my outfit, I move onto my hair. It is still wet, and I knew it would friz as it dried, so I run some anti-friz gel through my hair, with my fingers.  I put my hair into a fishtail braid straight down my back, falling to just above the top of the skirt. I next tie a black bandana around my head, tucking the knot under my braid. I apply my usual mascara. I grab my tan combat boots, folding them over so the plaid on the inside is showing. I stand and head to my window to look outside. It is gray and looks windy. I grab my phone and checked the temperature. It’s fifty degrees.