what does a dream mean? surely nothing right? we go to sleep, our fiery imaginations cook up some fairy tale or wild fantasy for us to view in prime seats for the night, and just like it came, it's gone. anything you do in a dream means nothing in real life, so does it matter what you do? just because there's no real repercussions of dream behaviour, do we have no obligation to act morally? can our 'characters' go on savage rampages and kill thousands of people in our dreams without it having some effect on our normal life?
and what happens when the dreams become too much? you can repeat over and over that it's not real, but it doesn't mean it doesn't feel like that when you're head over heels asleep. nothing can stop the demons in your head once you're already asleep. and once these dreams infect you entirely, gone are the days of early nights and lie ins. dread sets in.
you begin to get a bit nervous before you sleep one night. it starts with a small nerve. this grows. the next night you shake for hours, under your sheets, afraid to close your eyes. the next, you turn to pacing back and forth to push back the inevitable. but eventually, you have to sleep. and your dreams will get you. one way or another.
I'm afraid to sleep because I'm the weakest when my eyes are shut.
i write it out neatly in my new notebook, curling each letter carefully with my gel pen, taking care not to mess it up. when i lift my hand to see a perfect combination of purple etchings, i consider my work is done. i like to start new notebooks with quotes, muses, anything that makes me think. they distract me from how tired i am.
"oscar, please focus on your school book, not your diary," my teacher wasn't unkind, her words were spoken softly and politely, and that was a trait i could appreciate. not enough people possessed it. i placed my notebook into my bag as per her request, opening the text book for my german class. that was when she walked in.
I'm not one for mindless and overused cliches, fireworks didn't fly and rainbows didn't appear in the sky, but my heart did about three somersaults. there, in the door way, cropped hair framing her face, stood the most beautiful girl i had ever seen in real life. her eyes were the kind of green colour that nobody could really name, but was happy enough to stare at anyway. i tore my eyes away from her face, returning them to my textbook and silently reading it.
she was clearly a new kid, she had the timid curiosity of a new person, and she awaited her seat assignment. she ended up behind me. it didn't matter that I could no longer see her face in live time. my brain had stored it deep in memory.
her face almost made the tiredness fade from my eyes. almost. I've only slept for three hours a night for years, it catches up on you. everything hurts to move. but the only thing that hurts more than the constant tiredness pulling at your skin is the pain of the nightmares.
a/n: hey. welcome to this book. it might seem like a cliche romance but it's going to get pretty dark as the chapters go on. a lot will be drawn from personal experience. I'm not desperate for reads or votes, this is partly a personal project to voice my feelings and make something I'm proud of.
