What would you do if you woke up in front of some stranger manor? Probably get off their property as fast as you can before the cops are called on your sorry ass.
But what would you do if you woke up in front of some stranger manor with all your me...
Bullets were shooting all over the place. Flying in every direction possible. Either demolishing furniture or penetrating somebody skin. The rifles were aimed towards men, women and even children. The bullets rammed into the unarmed men skin, making them cry out an excruciating shout.
Their screams vibrated against my ear, causing a whimper to escape my lips and to squeeze the hand I was hanging onto tighter than before. Trying to squeeze the fear out of me, but it only made my heart pump harder against my chest.
"Ivanna over here"
I was beginning to see red.
My eyes flashed open. Sweat was running down my brow. My arms and legs were hot and tangled in the white sheets. My skin felt like it was ablaze, on fire. My breathing was wild. I was panting, out of breath. My nails were delving into the fresh nightgown. Destroying it. Little openings laid at the sew of it.
It was hard to breathe or to even think of what that dream was remotely about.
It was difficult to see at first. I just observed the dark spots clouding my vision and the little amount of my room I could see. After, the following couple passing minutes and my substantial breathing being the only sound in the room, my vision started to clear up. Displaying to me my room.
The curtain was drawn, so only a little stripe of light swept through. The small light from the window and the flashing neon green numbers on my alarm clock that was at my right were the only lights I had in the room.
and they aren't even bright enough to reach every corner of my room. Everything past my bedpost was in total darkness, blending into one.
The time on my alarm clock stated it was 6:41 am. Diana said I had to be in the kitchen by 7:30, so that would mean, I had less than an hour- 60 minutes, to be downstairs and ready for the job. I would need to get up now, to begin changing and motivating myself to look decent enough.
I wouldn't want to look like a raggamuffin once again. I needed to look decent.
They witnessed me at my worst and now they should see me at my best.
but there was one slight problem.
I needed to get to the lavatory across the room, to go do my business and to get prepared for the following day, but I couldn't push myself out of the bed. It frightened me to move. Thinking about stepping out of my comfy warm bed to the open darkness horrified me. It sent a shiver down my spine, rising the air around my neck. And the pounding of my heart didn't make my situation any easier.
I could finally now confirm one thing about my forgotten memory. One thing I didn't remember, but I most defiantly knew.
I was dearly afraid of the dark.
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