Dealt a Bad Hand

Dealt a Bad Hand

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WpMetadataNoticeUltima publicare mie, ian 28, 2015
(ATTENTION: do not read if can not handle abuse and/violence.) She sits alone in her room, Cries herself to sleep. Walks through the halls unnoticed and alone, people push her pull her hair and call her names. She stays strong until she sits alone in her room, cries herself to sleep. Mother doesn't notice her, and when she does she wishes she didn't. This isn't a poem. Just a sad story.
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FORMERLY V D' YAVOL. For as long as she can remember, Dream has been... dreaming. Very vividly. She saw how her childhood dog died two days before he actually did, so she had plenty of time to prepare herself-her words. She's been to plenty psychologists and sleep specialists, but they all say the same thing. Nothing to worry about. So, her parents gave it to God. And nothing happened. She's grown used to it by now. She sees a face, sometimes hears a name, and then whatever happens to that person. Murder, the lottery, a death in the family, etc. You name it, she's seen it. She pays the dreams no mind because she can't control or stop any of them all the time. It's out of her hands. But on one holy night, she sees a man. Limping. Crying. Bloody. Yet this time, she can't see a face.

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