reality | twenty-three

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"You're an angel fallen down,
won't you tell us of the clouds."

. . . . .



The loud cracking sound bounced around my head and my eyes flew open. I rolled over quickly in bed, sucking in a large breath of air as I did. I felt my bed disappear from under me and I let out a low groan as I hit the floor with a thud.

I didn't even bother to get up as I rubbed the palms of my hands over my tired eyes, before combing them through my already washed out hair. The headache I had only seemed to worsen with each passing second and it was then that the sound of my door opening had me looking up to see who had walked in.

"Should I even ask why you're on the floor?" Tyler had an amused look on his face as he tried not to laugh at my current predicament.

The blankets and sheets that had been covering me were now wrapped and twisted around my body, hanging off the side of the bed where I laid on the floor helplessly. It may have looked like a funny sight, but inside I felt like I wanted to puke.

My dream had been so simple, but it gave me the worst outcome once I was finally awake. I knew I wasn't going to be doing anything productive today.



. . . . .



"Seriously, Josh?" Tyler watched me as he stood in the doorway of the kitchen later that morning.

He had been complaining about the fact that we never hung out anymore and how badly he wanted me to come to some New Year's Eve party with him and Jenna. But I only just shook my head every time he asked. I was in a horrible mood and just thinking about going to a party made me feel that much worse.

"It'll be great!" My best friend smiled excitedly in an attempt to brighten my mood. "Drinks, music, people..."

I scoffed as his words. He really knew how to sell me on the topic. Again I shook my head as I took sip of coffee from the mug in my hands.

"Well at least tell me you're going to see Bryce tonight."

It was then that I looked over at him. I felt horrible about it because earlier this morning, after I had finally lifted myself off the floor, Bryce too had called and asked me if I wanted to hang out with her. But I had lied and told her I had already made plans with Tyler. Her voice had seemed so disappointed over the phone, but I just couldn't bring myself to want to leave the house, the headache from this morning never going away.

"Maybe..." Was all I said as I brought the mug of coffee back up to my lips.



. . . . .



I don't know what it was about last nights dream, but I felt like a sloth, moving sluggishly around the house only wanting to sleep and eat. I had grown accustomed to my nightmares and every day I found ways of pushing the horrible images of my shadow to the back of my brain until night once again fell and I had to sleep. But not today.

The low rumbling of that thunderous noise seemed to come and ago, startling me as I continued on with my day lounging on the couch. Tyler watched from afar, his eyes catching every flinch and tense of my shoulders, but said nothing. He knew I'd only get mad if he pointed it out, so instead we both suffered the day away - me in pain from my seemingly worsening dreams and Tyler in pain because he didn't know how to help his friend. I had even written in my dream journal to hopefully ease my mind, but even that didn't seem to be of any help.

Mr. Misty-Eyed | Josh DunWhere stories live. Discover now