It's Okay If You Hate Me

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"My paradise is stripped and I'm weak, you'll never know how much it kills me..."
- My Nightmare by Get Scared

Nick's PoV

I turn 16 today.

That means I'm finally allowed to dye my hair and get a nose ring. My mom promised me those two things if I went to therapy for a couple of months. Of course I accepted the offer.

See, I've found a way to hide any issues that I may have when around doctors of any kind, or higher authority than my parents. My mom told me I shouldn't do that because I need medication to help me cope with my depression. Why should I though? There's nothing wrong with me. At least nothing serious. At the moment.

I've started trying to hide it from her, too, but I don't think it's working. It's not like I'm constantly having to do it though. My parents are very...happy...people. When I started to (according to them) 'isolate' myself, they began to distance themselves from me, too.

Honestly, I think that they're starting to see me as a plague of some sort...one that they can't get rid of. Sometimes I wonder how such wonderful, happy people spawned a self destructive creature like me. Maybe I'm not even their child. Maybe someone just dropped me off on their porch step and played a short game of ding dong ditch. Except, you know, with a baby.

I took a deep breath in and held it, trying to clear my head so that I could sleep. Thunder sounded in the distance outside. Good. Maybe the rain can help me sleep? I haven't had a good night's rest in about a month. Usually, I can only manage to sleep for three or four hours in a night. If I somehow manage to sleep for longer than that, the majority of it is spent spiraling downward in a twisted, melancholic string of nightmares. Sometimes, I wake up drenched in sweat, and the feeling of being engulfed in flames consumes me. Other times, I wake up twitching horribly and with the overwhelming need to bury myself in a thousand blankets.

I felt my eyelids grow heavy as the sky above me began to cry out. Her tears fell against the roof, making a loud but weirdly relaxing pitter patter. I could imagine the trees outside of my house shaking from the chill of the water and dancing violently in the tears of their sister sky.

The last thing I remember thinking of (and whispering to myself) before I drifted off into a short lived peaceful nothing was, "I wonder how nice it would be to be able to cry over something, or someone, that I love."

And then I let the terrors of the night come to consume me.

- - - - -

Blood.

Blood everywhere.

Blood all over the walls, pooling on the floor, spattered on the ceiling....Where is it coming from, though?

I felt a sudden wash of cold air, and looked down to see that I was shirtless--blood draining from my stomach. There was a dead man on the floor a few feet in front of me, and there was a bullet wound on the side of his head. My hands immediately moved to the hole in my torso, trying to stop the blood from gushing out. Of course, it didn't work.

A blood curdling scream sounded from somewhere beside me, and sirens could be heard in the distance outside. My head jerked to the right as the scream died off.

There was a girl standing there. She was beautiful. Her hair was a blindingly light colour, like the white yellow perception of the sun. Almost the colour of snow to my eyes, but with a slight shade of blonde. Her eyes were a striking true hazel, and her skin was pale as the stars and the moon--it almost seemed to even glow.

Then I saw her flaws....

Her eyes were full of fear, and her hair was a mess, as if she'd been asleep recently. Her pale skin was covered in scars, and she was extremely thin. Not anorexic thin, but...she had a small thigh gap, the edges of her hips were pointing out, and her collarbone was more prominent than it probably should have been.

Those flaws didn't make her ugly, though. Those flaws made this mystery girl even more beautiful than she had been. She was perfect in the fact that she wasn't.

Her name left my lips, but I didn't hear it. How could I know her name? I don't know this girl, why am I calling for her?

My name left her lips, and I was confused at the panic in her soft voice. She ran to me, and I could see the tears running down her face.

"Don't leave me, Nick. I need you here...."

I wanted nothing more than to ask her what was happening. How did she know me? What is her name? Why are we here? Why am I...dying? But before any of these could leave my mouth, my vision began to fade. I remember whispering the words, 'I love you' before everything faded away.

- - - - -

Before I could scream, I sat up and grabbed my phone. I don't need to wake my parents up and give them more reason to unecessarily worry about me. It was 4:37 a.m. and already I dreaded the day ahead.

I hate it when I have nightmares. Especially ones like that....They always end up being prophetic in some way. I don't even know a girl like that, though. That voice has never before blessed my ears....

Maybe it's a subconscious thing. Maybe it represents something else. Maybe it's not literal.

I hope it's not literal.

I thought on and on and on and on and on about the endless possibilities, before eventually getting both freaked out and bored enough to check the time once more. I'd spent an hour over thinking a damn dream. What the hell....

Sighing, I laid back down. It's summer, I should be sleeping in, not worrying about my goddamn dreams. I shouldn't do that anyway, it's not normal. My fingers found my ear buds while my hands were going lazily back and forth over the bed. I took them and plugged them into my phone. In The End by Linkin Park started the playlist, and I soon ended up drifting back into a sweet, dreamless abyss.