SHATTERED DREAMS

I'd gotten home from school after detention & went immediately to my room, threw my things in the closet, & fell asleep, headfirst on the bed, completely over the whole day.

The storm that night was horrible by the looks of all the debris outside the next morning but it was nothing to the intensity of my dream. I washed so much dirt off my feet in the shower this morning that I kind of hoped I was still out of it from the dream & my feet are just always that dirty. Maybe? The last thing I needed was proof that I'm actually going somewhere in these... visions? That sounds makes them sound ridiculous but I have no idea what else I would call them at this point. Hallucinations makes me sound insane & to this day I don't have a very good name for what they are. They're just awful.

Whatever they were, they accomplished their task, because I couldn't fight them any longer. I was going to go along with whatever the dreams & voices & whatever else asked of me because I just needed it to stop. I needed to be able to think again. I would acquiesce to any demand & assist in any endeavor to get it to stop. I was always a space case, but lately I'd been in another galaxy altogether. So I made a vow right then & there that the next time I heard from it I would be ready. I resigned myself to accepting its requests & then, deluded as a teenager can sometimes be, I thought I'd be left alone.

Little did I know that not only wouldn't I hear from it as soon as I'd liked, just to get it over with, but that I would never be left alone again.