A single scene haunts my thoughts at night while I sleep. I'm laying in my bed, unable to move. My body feels paralyzed. My vision seemed to be blurred, but I realize it is just the smoke in the air. It is getting harder for me to breathe and the flames climbing the walls soon crawl across the ground to my bed. I try to scream for help but smoke fills my lungs and I can only cough and gag as the soot falls in my mouth. I see my door open, and a black silhouette is standing in the doorway. He doesn't move, let alone speak to me. He remains there, unmoving, staring and watching as the fire pricks at my body. Then I wake up.
As a thirteen year old, this dream had me waking up screaming and crying. My parents didn't know what to do besides push me towards a shrink who told me to "confront my fears and problems in real life and the dream would stop." I knew that was a load of bullshit that he fed most of his patients just to receive the monthly check, which he would cash and put towards his ridiculous sports car. I then decided that lying to my parents was the only solution. For all they knew, the dream ended and I was sleeping like a baby again. That really meant that I had to make sure I didn't scream loud enough to wake them and to control my crying. Four years later, I have become more accustomed to waking up in night sweats and out of breath, the screaming was a thing of the past.
My parents, my therapist, and my best friend were the only one who knew about the dream I was cursed with. I didn't have to worry about my friends being freaked out by me shrieking in the middle of the night during a sleepover because I never went to sleepovers. My best friend, Blaire, moved away when I was sixteen. She was able to keep my secret being my scapegoat when I needed to go home because my parents "wanted me to sleep in my own bed". Her stepmother got a job out in Pennsylvania, so her two older brothers and her packed up in the span of a month, said goodbye and flew out to their new home. I talk to her occasionally but things will never be like they used to. I miss someone being able to comfort me when I was afraid but for the past year and a half I was able to deal with it by myself. After all, I was going off to college in less than three months and I would have to cope with my nightmare in my dorm room, so being alone couldn't be an issue anymore.
My senior year went by in a flash, being accepted into a college in Washington, and then walking across the stage with a high school diploma in hand was exciting yet boring. I went to all my classes alone, without Blaire by my side and her bright blue eyes rolling back as she laughed at all the dumbass jocks and typical cheerleaders in the halls. I ate lunch at a table in the corner, either studying or reading. Reading took up most of my time. I loved how books could take you out of reality and transfer your mind to someone else's life. It was a nice distraction to my boring and uneventful life. I passed all my classes and received my final transcript and I was done with high school.
Summer had just started and my parents have been stressing me getting a job and socializing with people this summer. My mom and dad give me little shoves in life, but I end up stepping away and taking my own path. I have always been independent, since elementary school. My dad is some big corporate manager who dresses in suits, carries a brief case, all clean and sharp, while my mother is an artist. She paints large canvas paintings and owns her own gallery downtown. In San Diego, there are many small galleries, but my mother's is very pretentious and art connoisseurs from all over come to view her work. My dad is always working late and my mom is always in her gallery until midnight, so I learned how to make my own dinner when I was ten, and I've been fending for myself since.
I stepped into my sweatpants, threw on a t-shirt and jumped into bed. I twirled my hair into a high, messy bun and placed my brown-framed glasses on my nightstand, making sure my alarm was set for 6 am. The job hunt begins tomorrow and I have to get an early start. I found a "help wanted" ad in my local newspaper for a small book store right near a popular beach that many tourists hit up during the summer. I was reluctant to going in tomorrow, but the fact that I would be around books all day changed my mind. I closed my eyes and my mind drifted to darkness, only to be filled with the flickering of flames yet again.
