She had woken up in a panic. The drop in her stomach, the intake of a sharp cold breath only slightly touching her lungs, and the tightening of her chest. The skin around her heart shrinking, pulling her back down with each inhale. Never before had she experienced a dream so intensely real. She looked around then, to make sure she was out of the dreaded dream state and back to reality. Only when she found her sleeping little sisters’ distraught bed hair, slightly sweaty, sticking to her forehead, did she exhale. 

She stretched over to try and grasp her worn out journal she routinely found was a good way to clear her head of emotions. Leaving them on the page with the ink. Not forgetting, just relocating. Her fingertips flicked the edge of the cover, but she was too far to take the whole thing in her hand. Rolling over a full rotation in her bed, she was able to grab the journal. Picking it up with one hand but quickly going back to snatch a pen starting to roll down her nightstand with her extra hand. She pushed herself up, stabilized herself by her arm to move some pillows upright learning them against her headboard, and rested back against them sinking all the way through the plush to the end. She got cozy again by pulling the entirety of her covers back and placing each layer back over her legs like components of a sandwich. Once she was satisfied with her position, she had taken her journal in her hands and started flicking through the pages to find the next blank page. Passing past sketches, stream of consciousness words, and poems that all had come to her in past nights. She snapped on her pen and began writing then, all she could remember from her dream.

“I had a scary dream last night. First thing I remember was waking up on a bed I think; it sorta felt like I was laying on concrete. And I was dripping wet; drops of water or blood, I’m not sure, were coming off my hair. Next thing I knew, I heard my little sister screaming and screaming! I was trying to get up to see what was wrong, to help her, but I legit couldn’t move. My body legit wouldn’t budge! I felt paralized. Like my brain and nerves were completely foreign to each other. Then after that I heard my mom scream. She sounded so close to me. I felt like I could reach out and she’d be there but all I could see was black and I couldn’t move you know, so I just had to lay there and listen to them screaming and crying. Talk about a nightmare right?! What I saw next was super trippy. I remember it pretty vividly too. I saw a black door open outta nowhere and light flooded in. It was so damn bright, but I still couldn’t see myself, or what on earth I was laying on, or my mom and sister. I think I tried to look around, but my eyes were like obsessed with this light. It was really beautiful actually. And that’s when I woke up. Super weird dream, I know.” 

She had finished writing that morning’s entry; remembering to mark a date at the end, like she did with all her dreams. She sighed. Satisfied now that she got the dream recorded. She reached full body over again and put her journal back in its place, setting the pen down on top pressing the rouge stay cover back down. She peeled the covers off her legs letting the cool air rush under like a parachute, giving her the chills. She rolled on to her feet and let out a huff. Thank god it’s the weekend she thought as she picked up a hair tie to throw up her dark curls into a bun. 

“What do I want to wear today,” she whispered to herself.

After three minutes of just staring at her clothes considering every combination she could make plus the mood she wanted to bring with the day, five minutes of trying on the outfits she was thinking of; throwing items to the side that didn’t feel quite what she wanted. She had finally settled on her favorite red and black floral dress with tiny white dots. A little fancy she thought, but the radiating sunlight through her windows erased that thought from her mind.

She grabbed her hairbrush, a towel gently from the closet trying not to make the doors squeak too much (she hated the constant imperfection of it), and new socks on the way to the bathroom. It was still a little too early in the morning to play music from her phone; her mom would wake and then she’d wake her sister, so she decided “no” on the music. She was content, happy about starting a new day. She started thinking through her days’ plans as she was reaching over to grab the shampoo propped up against the end of the bathtub and slipped on some extra soap. She fell hard against the cold inflexible bathtub; red liquid slowly overtook the white surface. She closed her eyes unable to move anything but her eyelids and layed there without a sense of time. She heard her little sister scream. Her stomach dropped. The rush of blood going straight to her head killing her.