Limonene |H. S.|

7. onto you

Excuse the grammaticals, I have yet again fallen ill with conjunctivitis (something quite common with me), my eyes hurt and using glasses makes it worse so sorry for the errors on this chapter and a few more to come:(
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Have you ever had that one crazy dream where you're walking and all of a sudden you fall in an endless pit? Where you can hear yourself scream and see your body winding down the unknown? The one where it's so real you wake up with a jolt?

Well, I haven't.

Apparently it's a big deal, the teacher said that said dream is one of the most common experiences between a circle of people. I've had all sorts of mid-sleep crisis, but never that one. Hell, once I dreamt Hannah Montana was giving me a personal concert on the roof of her touring bus, only to have her explode in a pink mist of blood after she forgot to duck and was hit by a thick, cement bridge.

"Yeah, I mean I read somewhere that it means you're going to die, so when you wake up you're all scared." The infamous Tara Lee shares around our little group of classmates that had been assigned to this corner of the room.

Who wastes time from a Spanish syllabus to discuss the importance of dreams? That's a public American school for you, we weren't even speaking in Spanish. I guess Mrs. Gunn had had a nightmare and became interested over those of her students.

"I have that dream all the time, what does it mean?" Dean, a football jock who appeared to be very interested in the subject leans in, worried.

"Well, I don't know? That's just something I read on pinterest." Tara comforts.

"What about when you dream of food?"

"Lennon, if you think about food twenty-four seven you're bound to dream it up at some point." My friend rolls her eyes at my words, eyes going to the watch on my wrist.

"There's this cliché Facebook page with a quote that says if you dream about someone in your life it's because they went to sleep thinking about you." Dean states, oddly intrigued by today's subject.

"Once I dreamt I woke in the middle of the night and murdered my family." Kit, the fifth member of our group that was previously too occupied in his obscure drawing pitched in, quietly and with a deep voice.

"I bet you actually did and embalmed them with wax or something." Tara scowls, not bothering to hide her annoyance towards the guy.

She was a pretty girl, Tara with short, curly black hair that looked too high maintenance, grayish eyes and a long set of eyelashes I was jealous of. Outside of school, I recall seeing a shiny silver ring in her nose, one I presume she takes off for rulebook reasons. She had a very grunge way of dressing herself, one that suited her and looked cool enough to compliment, even if she'd only roll her eyes and give a sardonic smile. Like me, she was competitive, though her face wasn't one you'd find in mathletes or chess club, I had reoccurring matches with her over who was the best in which class.

You see, I didn't pay much attention to all that before. Tara Lee was just the girl in plaid skirts and bulky leather boots, someone who I'd occasionally come in conflict with when resolving calculus problems or discussing literature, kind of irrelevant. Now, now she was this cool, Tumblr inspired kid who I suddenly felt intimidated by, more so when she hasn't stopped sharing little looks and snide laughs with Lennon.